


Woven In My Soul

by NyxEtoile



Series: Syn and Loki Multiverse (Dark Inside AUs) [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-09-09
Packaged: 2018-01-21 20:46:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 69,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1563485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyxEtoile/pseuds/NyxEtoile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <img/>
  <i>He lifted a hand and covered hers, pressed it to his chest. “Perhaps there’s a universe where Odin never conquered Alfan. And when the princess came of age, she came to study with Frigga, to learn her magic.”</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <i>Syn smiled at the idea. “Do you think when that princess met the young prince they clashed terribly?”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This began as a writing exercise, to see if I could write from Loki's POV. It was just something to get me out of a slump I found myself in while writing _Kingdom Come_. It has since taken on a life of its own. I am a sucker for AUs and writing this one is really a lot of fun.
> 
> So, here is what would have happened if Syn had come to Asgard before all the shit from the first movie went down. It begins about a year before the events of _Thor_. Hope you enjoy.
> 
> This is my first unbetaed fic since _Hellbound_. All mistakes are mine alone.

Frigga, queen of Asgard, was a very knowledgeable woman. She knew many forms of magic, from illusions to healing to conjuring matter from thin air. She knew how to calm her husband and talk him into just about anything. She knew how to settle an argument between two quarreling brothers trying to out stubborn the other. But her most sure knowledge, the truth that would hold out until the realms themselves collapsed, was that when looking for her youngest son it was best to start in the library.

The palace of Asgard held many wonders, most having to do with warfare and glory. But there was art, too, galleries of it, from all over the realms. And there was the library. Two thirds the size of the Great Hall it went up three stories, shelves stacked to the ceiling, with ladders and spiral stairs scattered about precariously. Some of the books had been there for millennia. Most had not been read in almost as long. It was said, when anyone thought to speak of the library, that all the knowledge in the realms rested somewhere in those stacks of shelves.

Frigga found the door cracked open and slipped through almost soundlessly. As expected, Loki sat at one of the long tables, surrounded by books. He didn’t look up until she had almost reached him. He took in her fine gown and his eyes darted left and right swiftly. “Have I forgotten an event?” he asked.

She couldn’t help but smile a little, bending to kiss his brow. “Yes. The king of Alfheim is bringing his daughter. I’m taking her on as an apprentice.”

His brow furrowed, then cleared. “Of course. You mentioned it the other day.” He looked forlornly at his books. “I suppose you want me to come stand stiffly while everyone is properly presented to each other.”

“Go fetch and your brother first, if you would.” She ignored her son’s baleful look and added, “I believe he’s out in the yard.”

“Of course he is,” he muttered, standing slowly. He brushed his hands together as if dusty.

Frigga touched his arm gently. “The throne room. Soon as you’re able.”

He managed a half smile for her and bent to kiss her cheek. “Of course, Mother.”

*

He found Thor out in the yard as expected. His brother was reluctant to leave his battle practice, but came grudgingly when Loki invoked their mother’s name. After a stop at Thor’s chambers to change out of his battle armor and into something court appropriate, they made their way to the throne room. In the distance, the Bifrost blazed, indicating the visitors had arrived.

“Just in time,” Loki said, gesturing to the bridge.

“Who are were entertaining again?”

“The King of Alfheim. His daughter is going to study with Mother.”

Thor gave a little shudder and grimaced. “I wonder what _she_ looks like.”

Loki had to laugh. The Alfan king was a great bear of a man, with a too broad nose and soft chin. “Have you never met her?” Thor had recently begun to join their father on diplomatic missions and had visited Alfheim far more recently than Loki.

“Not that I recall. The last time we were in Alfheim was a brief jaunt. I think I remember when she was born. You were barely toddling.”

“She must have some magic, if Mother is willing to train her.”

Thor shrugged as they slipped into the side entrance of the throne room to take their places at the side of the dais. “They’re all magical there,” he said quietly. “Damn disconcerting.”

Loki made a mental note to look up Alfan history next time he was in the library. Magic was far from common in Asgard. The idea of a realm where it _was_ commonplace intrigued him. “What kind of magic?” he whispered. “Illusion? Teleportation? Summoning?”

Thor’s brow furrowed but he lowered his head, obviously about to try to answer a question that was likely far out of his depth. At that moment, however, the far doors of the room opened and their mother shot them a look warning them to be silent. Thor snapped to attention and Loki hid a scowl. He did hate these official state events. He told himself it would likely be quick and then he could return to his books. He’d just found the most interesting essay on realm crossing. . .

Odin stood slowly as the Alfan king strode down the hall. He was at least as big at the Allfather and almost equally scarred by battle. He carried a walking stick which he leaned on slightly as he walked. His colors were cool, blue and grey to Odin’s reds and golds. His face was stern until he had almost reached the throne, then it softened into the warm smile one gave an old friend.

 All this Loki took in in an instant before he was distracted by the smaller figure at the king’s side. She was tall and long limbed, with shadows of youthful awkwardness still haunting her movements; she had to stretch to keep up with her father’s confident stride. Like him, she wore cool colors, her gown moss green with a pattern of silver vines winding around the bodice and down the skirt. It was cut to hug her curves, with a full skirt and a neckline that left her shoulders bare. A silver pin in the shape of a star was fastened at her left breast.

She looked. . . nothing like her father. Her face was heart shaped, with a pert chin and narrow, understated nose. Her eyes were wide, with an upward tilt and thick lashes. She was at a distance and not looking at him, so Loki couldn’t discern the color. Her hair, too dark to be blonde and too light to be brunette, was pulled away from her face with silver combs and flowed down to her waist in a riot of waves and half curls that looked utterly untamable. She seemed to be trying to match her father’s serious expression, but a corner of her mouth tilted up just a touch, as if she knew an amusing secret she refused to share.

Next to him Thor let out a little huff of air. “How did that beget _that_?” he said under his breath.

“Maybe she’s a changeling,” Loki replied, earning another Look from their mother.

The Alfans reached Odin. The king gave a fist-to-chest salute and bowed while the girl dipped a low curtsey, back ramrod straight. Odin stepped forward to clap the king on the arm. “Hoenir, old friend. It’s good to see you.”

Hoenir mimicked Odin’s grip. “And you, Allfather. My daughter and I thank you and your queen for your hospitality.”

Frigga stepped forward then and received her own bow and curtsey. She reached for the princess’s hands. “Syn. You are the picture of your mother.”

The already quirked corner of her mouth went up several notches into a proper half smile. “Thank you, your majesty,” she said in the clipped accent of the Alfan people. Her voice was low for a woman and seemed to curl around the room, like a cat’s purr. “I have been told so.” She added just enough wry humor to the words to make Frigga chuckle.

The queen glanced at the two kings, who had begun to speak quietly of matters of state, and tucked one of the princess’s hands into the crook of her arm. “Come meet my sons.”

Loki found himself standing straighter as the women approached them, earning him an amused look from Thor. His mother and the princess stopped before them and Frigga gestured with a graceful hand. “My sons. Prince Thor and Prince Loki, of Asgard. This is Syn the Truthful, of Alfheim.”

The Truthful? He wondered if there was a story to that. He sketched his bow a half second after Thor, late enough he could watch her dip her curtsey once more. He noticed that, for them, she didn’t lower her eyes, and he caught her gaze with his. Green eyes. Emerald green, almost the same shade that he wore. The mouth quirk went higher again when she realized he watched her.

“Loki has been my student for many years,” his mother was saying. “I imagine you will see him often as you study with me. Though I fear he’s reaching the end of what I can teach him.”

“Nonsense, Mother,” he said, straightening. “You will always have more to teach me.”

He watched the princess take his measure with a flick of her gaze, then looked to Thor. “And does the crown prince wield any magic?” she asked and it was unclear as to wether she spoke to Thor or the queen.

Thor gave her what Loki knew he thought was a charming smile. Based on the reactions of the maids he usually turned it on, it probably was charming. It always gave Loki the vague urge to slip itching powder in his armor. “My strengths lie in more physical pursuits,” Thor rumbled.

And then, for perhaps the first time since they’d come of age and girls had started noticing Thor and ignoring him, Loki watched a woman become completely uninterested in his brother. The intelligent gleam in her eyes shuttered and dimmed and the smile she gave was tight lipped and perfectly symmetrical. “I’m sure they do,” she said demurely.

His mother tried to hide her amusement, but Loki could see it sparkling in her eyes as she took Syn’s arm again. “Come. I’ll show you to your rooms and we can discuss the schedule of your studies. I don’t expect you to spend all your time here buried in a book.”

They had moved too far away for Loki to hear the princess’s reply, but he watched them go, anyway, hoping she might glance back and give him another glimpse of green. Her posture had relaxed since she had first walked in, but she still held herself with royal grace, a full four fingers taller then his mother. Regrettably, she didn’t turn. He looked back to his brother, who looked absolutely flummoxed at the girl’s dismissal of him. Loki almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

*

“I hear there’s a new courtier arrived.”

Loki let fly the dagger he had been holding and looked over at Fandral. He usually spent his morning in study with his mother, but she had asked to postpone their lesson today so she could sit with the new princess. Thor and his friends had welcomed him in their battle practice, and the time had passed faster than expected. It must be past lunchtime, they had already lost Volstagg to his stomach and Hogun to other duties. Which left just him, Thor, Sif and Fandral to abuse the practice dummies and even they were losing interest in favor of gossip.

“Not just a courtier but a princess,” Thor told the swordsman. “Alfan.”

“An Alfan? I’ve not seen one of those in court in an age.”

“You may not see this one, either. She’s to study with Mother. Likely spend her days buried in one dusty book or another. Like Loki over there.”

Loki conjured another dagger and tossed it whizzing past Thor into another dummy. “Pay my brother no mind. He’s vexed because the lady was unmoved by his charms.”

Fandral gaped at Thor in shock. “Surely not.”

“There was no attempt at charm,” Thor said, with a glare at Loki. “I merely greeted her. We said a handful of words to each other.”

“That’s usually enough for the crown prince,” Fandral teased.

The glare was promptly turned on him a moment before Thor decided to feign interest in his exercise again. “Loki’s just cross that she spoke to me and not him.”

He drew himself up to his full height. “Why should that concern me at all?”

“I saw how you looked at her, brother,” Thor replied with what passed for a sly smile.

“I looked at her no differently than I would any other new-”

“Is that her?” Sif’s idle question broke through his righteous defense. The three men turned to face her and she pointed to the far wall that separated the training yard from the Queen’s garden. Perched on said wall was the princess in question. She’d chosen a portion of the wall that climbed a small rise and was thus able to use the tiered stone as a back rest. Her dress was the blue-green of clear lake water and she’d tied her hair back with a matching ribbon. A thick book lay on her knees and she seemed completely oblivious to the group exercising a few yards away.

“Yes, it is,” Thor said.

“Well,” Fandral said, twirling his sword. “It would be impolite not to go say hello.”  
 Thor gave a groan, but his friend was already strolling towards the girl on the wall. Sif arched a questioning brow at him, then they seemed to shrug in unison and followed their friend. Loki launched one more knife at the target and made his own way over.

“. . . strange place to be reading,” Fandral was saying, leaning on the wall near the princess’s feet.

She had lowered her book and was regarding the three warriors with something between exasperation and curiosity. She answered politely enough, “I enjoy the scents of the garden but every bench I found was too shaded. I prefer to feel the sun.”

“And were you enjoying the view at all, my lady?”

Her mouth twitched as if in dismay. For a bare instant, Loki thought her gaze swept him. “Some of it, my lord,” she answered, speaking slowly, as if choosing the words carefully.

“May I ask which parts?”

The mouth twitch again. “The attractive ones, my lord.”

Loki had to look away for a moment to keep from laughing out loud. Sif, as always, was there to aid her comrades. “Does Alfheim house great warriors, my lady?”

He looked up to catch her reply and found her face changed when she spoke of home. “Not as many as Asgard. But some. I’m told my father was a warrior of note, in his youth.”

“Does the lady know anything of weapons?” Thor asked. “Or fighting?”

She hesitated. “I know a little archery,” she admitted, and the set of her mouth told him she knew she’d regret it.

“Marvelous!” Fandral had found his footing again. “Perhaps you’d favor us with a demonstration.”

“I’m sure my meager talent would be of no interest to four of Asgard’s great warriors.”

It look Loki a moment to realize she’d included him in the count. He supposed a land of magic wielders would have more respect for his “tricks” than he was used to. To his own surprise he heard himself say, “I’d like to see it.”

She looked at him, as did the others. He couldn’t put name to what he saw in her green gaze, though he swore he saw a hint of betrayal. “I don’t have my bow,” she said flatly.

“You can borrow one of ours,” Thor said and, as if that settled it, reached up to help her off the wall.

She used a slender grey ribbon to mark her place in the book before setting it aside. Ignoring his brother’s hands, she fisted her skirt so it cinched tightly to her legs and jumped lightly off the wall, knees bending as she landed. She walked silently with them back to the practice range and took the bow Fandral offered her with a tight smile.

He could see in the way she inspected it and tested the tension on the string that she did have some experience with the weapon. She peered down the field at the target and slid an arrow from the quiver hanging from a pole and notched it to the bow. She drew it back taut, took and released a deep breath, then let the arrow fly. It hit the target with a resounding _thunk_ , above and to the right of the bullseye.

Fandral had taken up his own bow and loosed an arrow with far less preparation. His landed solidly in the center of the target.

The princess’s mouth was pursed as she selected another arrow. “Tell me, my lord,” she said as she notched this one to the bow. “Do you wager?”

Fandral smiled widely. “On occasion.”

She looked at him with a little half smile tilting her mouth. “If I can spilt your arrow, will you and your comrades leave me to read in peace?”

He let out a bark of laughter and threw an incredulous glance at Thor and Sif. Loki was far too busy watching that mysterious smile on Syn’s face to pay the other man any heed.

Fandral looked back at the princess, still holding her arrow loosely in the bow. “My lady, if you can split my arrow I won’t speak to you again for the rest of the season.”

The smile widened. “I will settle for not disturbing my study, but as it please you.” She faced the target and brought the bow up, string pulled taunt to her cheek. She pointed a finger at the target as if to sight down it, then made a little swirling motion with the digit. A blast of gold magic flared and at the far end of the field Fandral’s arrow splintered in two.

There was a moment’s pause while they all processed what had just occurred. Then Thor burst into laughter as Syn handed the bow back to Fandral with a little curtsy. He stared at her as she walked back to the wall. “You cheated!” he called after her, laughter in his voice.

She turned. “His lordship should learn to word his bargains more carefully. I never said _what_ I would split the arrow with.” She gave another little dip before turning away again.

Thor slapped Fandral firmly on the back. Loki imagined the teasing over this would last a good long while. He watched the princess return to the wall. She placed a foot on an uneven stone, her hand on the top of the wall and leapt up gracefully, aided, he was sure, by magic. She resettled with her book but glanced up before opening. She caught his gaze and gave that same half tilted smile, as if knowing he was in on the joke, before looking down and returning to her place in the tome.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rejoice, for my beta has returned! SweetTea is back on the job and continues to be awesome.
> 
> Thank you for all the enthusiastic comments! I'm so glad people are excited about this story.

Loki found his mother later that afternoon, in her parlor. She looked up and smiled when he entered. It was, as always, impossible not to smile in return. “Loki. I heard you were practicing with the warriors today.”

“Some,” he admitted, sinking into a chair facing hers. “How went lessons with your new student?” He tried to pitch his voice as casual as possible but, based on his mother’s expression, he didn’t think he’d succeeded.

“Very well,” she replied. “The princess is skilled, but limited by her previous training.”  “I was told Alfheim is full of magic. Could she not find a proper tutor there?”

“Oh, I suppose if she’d hunted a bit she could. The problem with magic being common is that people begin to take it for granted. Most Alfan magic is parlor tricks or simple things to ease everyday life. The princess seeks a more profound use. So she came here.”

“What kind of magic does she do?”

Frigga arched a brow at him. “Surely you could ask her that yourself.”

He fidgeted under that look. “I’ve not had the opportunity.”

His mother stood gracefully. “Perhaps you should seek it out, then. If she so interests you.” 

Loki got to his feet as well and walked with her as she left the parlor. “It was an idle curiosity. A son cannot make conversation with his mother?”

That earned him a gentle laugh. “Loki, none of your conversation is idle.” She stopped and put a hand to his face before stretching up to kiss his cheek. “If you want to find out more about the girl, talk to her. I promise she won’t bite.” She gave him a gleaming look he didn’t quite understand before continuing along the hallway alone.

*

Two days later he entered the library to find the princess already there, seated at the long center table that dominated the room, with a small stack of books beside her. She was hunched over another book, head propped on one hand, a gold pen twirling between the fingers of the other. He stopped short in the doorway and watched her a moment.

She must have sensed his regard because she looked up, just a scant movement of head and eyes. When she saw it was him, she startled a bit and made as if to stand until he waved her off, finally moving forward. “My lord,” she said politely, watching him approach her.

“My lady,” he said quietly. “I apologize, I’m not used to finding anyone in here.”

She smiled a little, glancing about. “I imagine that’s true.” She looked back to him and tilted her head before adding in a conspiratorial whisper, “Your brother and his friends. . . they _can_ read, yes?”

It surprised a laugh from him and he sat across from her at the table. “I believe so, though it’s been a while since I saw evidence of it.” He watched her fingers twirl the pen. “They’re still talking of your little trick.”

She blushed and rolled her eyes a little. “Fandral has taken to looming silently until I give him permission to speak. It was funny at first, but the shine is wearing off.”

“You’ll find that’s common with most of their jokes.”

“I wasn’t sure how they would take it. I’m used to my brothers and their friends. They aren’t as amused by my tricks.”

He waved a hand. “Ah, they’re so used to mine. I imagine yours seemed quite harmless in comparison.”

Her eyes glittered with interest. “What kind of tricks do you pull?”

Loki watched her a moment, then made a gesture and the pen between her fingers softened and morphed into a small snake.

He expected her to shriek and drop the creature. Instead, she gaped, then her mouth curled into a delighted smile. She leaned closer to the serpent and it flicked its tongue out to tickle her nose. She laughed. “It’s lovely.” She looked back to him. “Can I keep it? Or will it turn back?”

Only his mother had ever reacted so well to this tricks. Well, Thor often thought they were funny, when they weren’t being played on him. “It’s a snake now,” he said. “You can do with it as you wish.”

She flexed her hand and the snake slid through her fingers and down her hand to curl around her wrist like a bracelet. “Thank you, my lord.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her to call him by his name. He swallowed it and tried another tack. “What sort of magic do you do?”

Her nose crinkled a little. “Nothing like that. Mostly healing and defensive spells. Walls, shields. Oh, and I can make sparks.” She held out the hand without the snake on it, palm up, and a shower of gold fire poured out. “Which is pretty, but utterly useless,” she admitted with a wry smile. “I came here because I wanted to conjure. Like you.” He arched a brow. “I saw you with the knives in the training yard. You snatch them from the air.”

He looked away, oddly embarrassed he’d caught her attention without being aware of it. “It’s always come easy to me. That and illusions.”

“Illusions are likely beyond my means,” she said with a sigh.

He studied her, sensing a deeper meaning to her words than simple self depreciation. “How so?”

She watched her little snake slither off her arm and onto the table towards him. “Did you hear your mother when she introduced me? Syn the Truthful.” Her gaze lifted to his. “Truth tends to melt illusions.”

“So your title is more than window dressing?”

A mouth quirk. “How much do you know of Alfheim’s history?”

He shifted in his chair, then held out a finger for the snake to taste. “Very little,” he admitted.

She shrugged and sat back. “We’re fairly boring compared to Asgard; I won’t hold it against you. My great grandfather was Finn the Wicked.” She laughed at his expression. “Aye. I’ve seen portraits, Finn the Corpulent would have been just as appropriate. In any case, wicked he was. A cheat and a liar in all his dealings. You may see where this is going. After being burned by him once too often, the king of Vanaheim decided to do something about it. So he placed a very powerful curse on Finn and his house so that none of his blood could ever again tell a lie. It worked. Finn was forced to deal fairly and Alfheim became known for its straight dealings. Ten thousand years and several generations, the truth is still in our blood. It goes much deeper now than it was originally intended, though. I can’t lie but I can also see lies when others tell them. See through illusions and glamours as if they weren’t there.”

“You’ve the True Sight,” he said softly. “Like my father.”

 “After a fashion. I imagine if I get as old as Odin, it will be quite potent. For now, I stick to knowing when others are lying to me.” She shrugged again. “It has its upsides as well as down. Was rather awkward as a mischievous child.”

“By the realms, I can’t even imagine. How did you ever get away with anything?”

She laughed. “We didn’t. If one of us managed to resist confessing our sins, one of our siblings was sure to be eager to tattle.”

“I don’t imagine that engendered much sibling affection,” he said carefully.

Another bright laugh. “No.” She shook her head. “My older brother, Boe, and I used to be closer, but he’s now far too busy learning to be king to spend any time with me.”

_That_ certainly sounded familiar. “You have two brothers?”

“Yes. The younger, Tig, is barely out of the nursery. He thinks Boe is a hero and I’m quite boring and worse, a girl.” She smiled, but it was tinged with sorrow. “I was glad to be going. There was no place for me there anymore.” The smile dropped away and her mouth twisted in a way he was beginning to recognize meant she had spoken a truth she didn’t want to.

“I’m sensing a pattern in your names,” he said in an attempt to distract her.

“Ah yes, the threes. It’s a lucky number in Alfheim. Though I think Boe and I were a coincidence and when Tig came along, they were stuck.” She propped her chin on her fist. “You and your brother are close.”

He noted it wasn’t a question. He leaned back in his chair, watching the little snake make its way around the table. “We were. Much like you and your brother we’ve begun to drift now that the promise of the crown looms before him.”

Those green eyes gleamed. “You’d prefer it loomed before you?”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“Never,” she said with a slow shake of her head. He stared at her. “How boring to be queen,” she continued. “Council meetings and realm summits and moderating disputes. Having to be a figurehead for all the people, your every move scrutinized. The weight of the realm on your shoulders.” She shook her head again. “No. I’d much rather be the advisor behind the scenes. Unnoticed, unimportant. Until the king needs someone to whisper in his ear. Far more fun to be the puppeteer than the puppet.”

Silence stretched between them as she waited for his reaction. He was far too flummoxed to come up with a proper reply and he saw her deflate a little. She closed the book she’d been reading and stood. She put the book on top of the stack and scooped it up. “Forgive me, my lord, I’ve lost track of the time and must dress for dinner.” She held a hand out for the snake to slither onto. It coiled around her wrist obediently.

“Loki,” he managed when she was almost to the door.

 She turned and arched a brow at him. “Pardon?”

“You should call me Loki,” he said, looking at her in a different light.

Her mouth tilted up into that odd, crooked smile and she inclined her head. “Then you should call me Syn, don’t you think?”

“My pleasure,” he replied with a nod of his own. She held his gaze for another heartbeat before turning back to the door and taking her leave.

*

Thor convinced him to go hunting with him the next day, so he spent three days out in the wild with his brother. They didn’t catch much more than rabbits to cook over their own campfire but it was a pleasant enough distraction. 

They were riding back on the third day when Thor asked, “The Alfheim princess. . . were you looking at her?”

“Thor-” he said, desperately wanting to avoid this conversation.

“There is no mockery in the question, brother. I ask only because you seem similar. Her jest with Fandral and the arrow could have easily come from your book.”

Loki allowed himself a small, private smile thinking of the swordsman’s face when his arrow had shattered. “It is nice having another magic user in the palace,” he admitted carefully.

“She looks at you,” Thor offered with a sly, sideways look.

“She does not,” he protested immediately, hoping against hope he wasn’t blushing.

“Brother, I bow to your wisdom in almost all matters, but when it comes to women will you allow me a bit more experience?” He waited until Loki gave a grudging nod before continuing. “She looks at you. When you aren’t looking. And she smiles the way you smile.”

Loki wished the ground would open up to swallow him and his horse. Anything to get off of this topic. Still, he found himself asking, “And how is that?”

“As if she knows a secret she’s refusing to tell the rest of us.” He looked over at his brother. “Is that because of the magic?” Thor asked.

Loki wasn’t entirely sure how to answer that question. He wasn’t used to this much insight from his older brother. Thor wasn’t stupid. He was a good warrior and a loyal friend. But his mind didn’t wander the same twisted paths as Loki’s did. Occasionally, it made him difficult to talk to. “Partially,” he finally conceded. “I think she just. . . we have things in common. She’s also a second child.” Of an overbearing older brother with a long shadow, but he didn’t say that part out loud.

“Mother likes her.”

Loki groaned. “She’s been here less than a fortnight. Perhaps it’s premature to be planning the betrothal?”

Thor shrugged. “As you say.” He grinned. “Come. We’ll be late for supper at this rate.” And then he spurred his horse into a gallop, forcing Loki to chase him.


	3. Chapter 3

To say that Loki was an early riser was incorrect. It presumed that he slept at all. While he did, on occasion, have to give into his body’s needs, he preferred to stay up as long as possible. Sleep was wasted time.

After their hunt, his brother and their friends celebrated enthusiastically, making for a long night and quiet morning. Loki went for a walk in his mother’s gardens, debating a visit to the library versus attempting a brief nap. He was distracted by a rhythmic thumping noise coming from the training yard. Curiosity got the better of him and he scaled the wall to investigate.

Syn stood at one end of the field, in a shift and leggings, her hair braided tightly down her back. She had a white ash bow in her hands and, as he watched, she sent an arrow down the range. It landed just to the right of the bullseye. She reached into the quiver on her back without looking and notched the next arrow smoothly.

He jumped down from the wall and strolled towards her, being sure to make enough noise that she would hear him. He didn’t really feel like taking an arrow to the chest this early in the day. 

She let the second arrow fly and turned to glance at him before it even hit the target. Her gaze was guarded until she saw who approached her, then he watched her shoulders ease. “Loki. I did not expect anyone to be up at this hour.”

Hands behind his back, he strolled to her side. “I keep odd hours,” he admitted, gazing down the field at her target. Her grouping was much better than her shot the other day would have had him believe. “So you do have some skill.”

Her gaze flickered to the target, then back to him. “I’ve been training since I was a youth. It’s considered the only acceptable weapon for a girl in Alfheim. My mother didn’t even want me to learn it, but my father made some bluster about everyone in _his_ line knowing how to defend themselves and the next I knew a very awkward archer was trying to describe how to hold the bow without actually touching me.” She gave him a wry smile. “Mastery took a while.”

“Were you toying with Fandral the other day, then?”

She shrugged. “Some.” A pause. “I was a touch nervous, too. I’ve never done it for an audience before.”

“If I’m disturbing you-”

“No, no.” She held out a hand. “It was just the group of them. I feared they were just setting me up for a tease. Hence, the trick.”

He tipped his head back. “And you don’t fear I’ll tease?”

Her mouth twisted and he could see her formulating her answer carefully. “I don’t fear your teasing, no.”

It would be kinder to just let it go. Her inability to lie made his questions almost teasing themselves. “Why?”

She gave a frustrated sigh. “Because if you teased me it wouldn’t be for being weak or a girl or a witch.”

He tilted his head. “Your brothers don’t treat you kindly, do they?”

With another sigh, she turned back to the targets, pulling another arrow. “Ask the Lady Sif how it feels to be the only girl in a pack of boys. She obviously found kindred friends with you and your brother and the others. I was always different. There’s little place for arrows and magic in a world of shields and swords.”

Loki felt a sudden flicker of gratitude towards his brother. Whatever Thor’s other faults, he had never allowed a deliberately cruel word to be said against Loki. There had been the odd bully when they were children. High minded noble children who thought the younger prince was fair game. A solid beating from Thor (and later Sif and, at least once, Fandral) had usually prevented it from going too far. Evidently, Syn had never had that.

“They won’t tease you for that,” he told her quietly.

The arrow flew and thunked dead center in the target. “You can’t know that.”

“I can. Thor and his friends are many things, both fair and foul, but mean is not one of them. They’ll tease in jest, in good fun. But they won’t belittle your gifts. Not with malevolent intent.” _Not like your brothers_ , he added silently.

She glanced at him, still a little uncertain, but she gave him a nod, reaching for another arrow. “May I ask you a question on a different topic?”

“If you wish. I don’t promise to answer.” His words earned him her crooked smile, as he’d hoped they would.

“When you conjure your daggers, are they real or illusion?”

He arched a brow, then held a hand out, dagger appearing with a thought. “See for yourself.”

She hesitated for a brief instant, then lowered her bow and held it in one hand before reaching out with the other to take the blade. It gleamed in her hand, silver and deadly. She turned it, inspecting it, before bouncing it on her palm to test the weight. “Do you make them from nothing or are they stored elsewhere and you’re bringing it to you?”

“I’ve not yet found the trick to making something from nothing. I could turn a stick into a blade if I had to, and could concentrate. These are stored in a trunk in my chambers. When I need them, I call and they come to me.” He tilted his head. “Why?”

“I can’t conjure. It’s the first thing your mother says she’ll teach me. I hope one day not to need the quiver.” She held the knife out to him, flat on her palm. “To snatch them from the air, as you do the blades.”

He took the knife back and tossed it toward the target in the same motion. It buried itself between her last two arrows with a satisfying _thunk_. “Can you move things when you’re looking at them?”

A shrug. “Some. I’m limited by what my mother knew how to do, which was very little. I had other tutors, but no one I know of in Alfheim can do the things you and your mother do.”

“Flattery is unnecessary.”

Her mouth quirked. “I was merely being honest.”

“Honesty can be flattery. Usually the most successful kind. It generally does you no good to call a lady of short stature willowy or a dark skinned one fair.” Idly, he snatched another dagger from the air and threw it, this time at a different target so as not to damage any of her arrows. “If I told you that your hair was as fine as gold, would you be flattered?”

“Perhaps,” she said thoughtfully. “But I might question the quality of gold you were familiar with.”

His gaze flickered to her hair instinctively. It really did defy comparison. It wasn’t an unattractive shade, in his estimation, but there was not much else in the realms it resembled. “Amber?” he heard himself muse out loud.

Her smile widened. “Too orange, I should think. Fresh turned earth?”

He shook his head. “Far too dark, I’m afraid. Perhaps something in the animal kingdom.”

“Careful, prince. You risk comparing me to some small creature in the rodent family which would put us both in a poor light.”

Since the first thing that had come to his mind was a particular kind of shrew hunted for its pelt, she was probably right. He pointed down the range at her collection of arrows embedded in the target. “Why don’t you try to bring one back?”

She followed the line of his finger, smile melting off her face. “I don’t know how.”

“How fortunate that I do. Pick out one of the arrows, focus on it to the exclusion of all the others.” He watched her turn so she faced the target and her eyes narrowed slightly. After a moment, she nodded. “Good. Now hold out your hand and picture the arrow sitting in it. That exact arrow that you’re looking at.”

He thought back to the early lessons with his mother. She had taught him illusions first, as that was where their strengths lay. But this kind of conjure had been the next step. He had spent a delightful month moving things around in Thor’s room in an attempt to drive him mad. Twice at supper he had made his chair disappear before he could sit. It had been great fun.

“I don’t think it’s working,” she told him in a conspiratorial whisper.

It had been so long since he’d actually had to think about this. “When you heal, how do you do it?”

“I picture my magic filling the wound,” she said immediately. “Stitching it together like torn fabric.”

Visualization, he could work with that. “In this case picture your magic wrapping around the arrow so it’s completely enveloped. Then it brings the arrow to your waiting hand. Like an obedient hound.”

She gave him a sidelong glance. “You avoided comparing me to a creature, but you call my magic a hound. Silvertongued you are not.”

He resisted smiling, though it was a struggle. “I apologize if I’ve offended your magic’s sensibilities. Have you noticed you’re holding an arrow?”

The little jump and squeak she made when she looked back and saw he spoke the truth were priceless. Her face split into the same smile she’d given when he made her pen into a snake. “I didn’t even- Oh, that was marvelous.” She turned the smile on him. “Thank you.”

For a moment - and for quite possibly the first time in his life - Loki was at a loss for words. It wasn’t just that a beautiful girl was smiling at him. Thor might be the favorite but he was still a prince and women did, on occasion, smile at him. It was that she was smiling because he’d taught her something. Something magic. Never in his life had he had someone to share that with that wasn’t his mother. He’d told Thor he liked having another magic user in the palace, but he hadn’t realized exactly how _much_ until that moment.

He cleared his throat nervously and pointed back at the target. “Try again.”

She tucked the arrow in her quiver and looked back to the target. One by one she brought every arrow back and returned them to the quiver. At the end, she even retrieved his daggers for him, handing them back to him with a flourish.

Very deliberately, he let his fingers drag over her palms as he took them back. He was quite satisfied when he saw her pupils dilate slightly at the touch. It was her turn to clear her throat. “I should go change. Before the rest of the palace wakes for breakfast.”

“May I walk you to your chamber?” he asked, finding solace in the manners his mother had so thoroughly enforced.

Syn scooped up her bow and nodded, looking almost shy. “If it pleases you.”

He didn’t offer his arm - he didn’t think either of them would be able to handle touch at the moment - but he gestured grandly for her to proceed him. She inclined her head and together they walked up to the palace in comfortable silence.

*

Every year, in the summer, the palace of Asgard held a ball for the queen’s birthday. They never celebrated the king’s birth, though every century or so they commemorated his coronation or a particularly impressive battle. The princes both enjoyed birthday celebrations, though as they grew older the events became smaller, and more private. But the queen’s birthday was never forgotten.

Royalty and nobles from across the realms came for the festivities until the palace all but burst with guests. Food, wine and mead were served in abundance and everyone tried to out do each other in dress and merriment.

It was, as far as Loki was concerned, a special kind of torture.  
 He didn’t begrudge his mother the attention. If anyone deserved such reverence it was her. It was that he was expected to attend all these ridiculous feasts and breakfasts and balls. There was dancing and drinking and Thor and his friends being loud. It was entertaining for the first few hours but eventually he longed for the library, or even his chambers. Peace and quiet.

This year, he tried to tell himself, would be different. Syn was here and would be somewhat entertaining. He was fairly certain she looked at large crowds and loud celebrations with the same level of dread as he did. Perhaps he’d be able to convince her to join him in the library. As near as he could tell, she spent almost as much time in there as he did.

It had been almost a month since he’d found her on the archery range and regrettably, he had seen very little of her since. Her studies with his mother were doing well, as far as he’d been able to glean. And he had not heard any rumors of any of the courtiers giving her difficulties. But for whatever reason, he had seen very little of the woman herself. He was beginning to worry he had scared her off. But he was confident she would be out and about for the birthday celebrations. His mother would make certain of it.

He stood next to Thor in his stiff, formal leathers while their father toasted his wife and welcomed all their guests. Loki had managed to miss most of the guests arriving by going for a ride with Thor and the warriors. They had timed their return for the opening feast and had made it with barely any time to spare. Now he looked out at a sea of faces, hoping to spot familiar green eyes, with no success.

When the toasts were complete, and the crowd began to mingle, he slipped away from his family, looking for her. He found her near the balcony, surrounded by people. He recognized the king of Alfheim and the older woman next to him must be his wife. (She did, in fact, resemble Syn to an unnerving degree.) With them was a tall, broad shouldered man of Thor’s age and apparent temperament that favored the king, and a youth, barely old enough to attend such an event, who was a blend of his parents. The king and the boys were dominating the conversation, complete with broad sweeping gestures and roars of laughter. The queen had a serene expression of mild interest on her face. Syn looked as if she wished the ground would open up beneath her.

Loki was too far away to hear what was being said, tucked in the shadow of a pillar so she wouldn’t notice him. As he watched, she appeared to try to excuse herself but her older brother put an arm around her shoulders and pinned her to his side, just slightly too roughly. A spike of something Loki couldn’t name flared in his chest, but he pushed it down. Now was not the time. He did his level best not to make a scene at his mother’s birthday. He would give it time, plan a proper rescue. 

He mingled for a little while, talking to some of the nobles about politics and this year’s harvests and whatever other bland topic he could find. He caught his mother smiling at him in approval a few times and decided it was as good a gift as any he could give her, playing at sociable for a while.

The party was starting to wear at him, and he still hadn’t properly formulated an escape plan for Syn, when Thor slung an arm around him. He couldn’t help but note that while Thor’s attention might be unwanted, it didn’t have the vaguely abusive air that Syn’s brother’s had.

“Brother,” Thor said in a voice that was just slightly too loud to be spoken so close to a person’s ear. “Come sneak out with us.”

Loki glanced up at him. “Us?”

“The warriors, Sif, and I. We’ve had as much politics and chit chat as we can stand. The servants have set up a private party in one of the parlors.” He tightened his arm, shaking Loki slightly. “Come along. Don’t run and hide like you usually do.”

For a moment, Loki wondered if this was what they always did. If he would always have been invited if he’d managed to soldier through an event this long before. The thought caused an odd pang in him. “Might I bring someone along?” he asked casually.

“Anyone you like. As long as you come.” Thor sounded absolutely delighted. 

“I’ll be there momentarily,” Loki assured him, before slipping out from under his arm and winding his way through the crowd.

The Alfan royal party was where he had left them. The queen and younger boy were missing and they had been joined by what he assumed were some nobles of their acquaintance. Syn was between and just behind her brother and another man of their age. If possible, she looked even more miserable than before.

He took an extremely circuitous route to the group so that he wouldn’t be spotted. He placed himself beside a pillar to the right of her, making sure she would be able to see him if she turned. Then he sent out a glimmer of magic and placed one of his knives in her empty hand.

To her credit, she made no outward sign she noticed it. Not until she glanced down to see what it was and her eyes widened. She glanced around a moment, spotting him quickly. When he had caught her gaze, he beckoned her with a waved hand. She glanced pointedly at her brother, as if to explain she couldn’t just leave. He screwed his face up into an expression of mockery and beckoned her again.

He watched her glance at her family again. Then she slowly took a step back. When no one paid her heed, she took another. Then another. Then a few side-steps to the right, until she was standing behind the pillar with him.

She handed him the knife. “What is it?” she hissed, glancing back at her group.

“Thor and the warriors have retired to a private parlor. Come with me.”

He watched her war with herself. “But my family -”

“Seem to have forgotten you exist,” he pointed out, not unkindly. She scowled and looked down and he felt a pang of remorse. He held a hand out, trying to sound contrite. “Come keep me company,” he said softly.

He expected her to look at her family again. Instead her mouth firmed into a tight line and she slid her hand in his with a nod. He grinned despite himself and pulled her into the shadows, slipping out of the ballroom.

Thor and the others had commandeered a very _nice_ parlor for their semi-clandestine party. There was a ring of couches and chaises, a low table covered with food and wine pitchers. One wall was open to the air, leaving a breathtaking view of the Sky Sea. The rest of them were already lounging about and looked up with interest when he arrived. He had expected Fandral, and possibly Thor, to have brought female company with him, but to his surprise it was just the five of them. Syn faltered a little at his side and he tugged on her hand, dragging her into the room.

Fandral stood when they reached the couch ring, taking a stiff, formal pose. Loki had the urge to tap him on the chest to topple him, but Syn just sighed and shook her head. “My lord Fandral, you are a man of your word. But I fear I cannot take the silent treatment any longer.”

The blonde man broke into a wide grin and sketched a quick bow. “It was a good trick, my lady,” he said as Loki steered her onto a couch.

Sif reached to the table and poured wine into a goblet before holding it out to Syn without a word. Syn took it with a grateful smile and settled back on the couch.

The warriors were delighted to have a new set of ears to listen to all their grand stories. After the first one, Syn gently explained her particular skill with lie detection and the next tale came with less elaboration. For her part, she was an eager and enthusiastic audience, asking all the right questions and laughing at just the right spots. Loki was content to watch her, listening to tales he had either heard a hundred times or lived through himself. She sipped her wine sparingly, but relaxed quickly as it became obvious the others didn’t resent her intrusion. He knew her interest had to be genuine, still, she played the others, knowing just the right thing to say to compliment them. She even wheedled a story out of Hogun.

The hours flew past as the stories came and the food and wine were consumed. Volstagg had passed out on his chaise, snoring every so often. The others were draped at various levels of stupor among the other furniture, save for Loki and Syn, still sharing a couch, carefully leaving the other their space. Fandral had just finished an epic tale of their combined heroism against a group of rock trolls. Loki rather liked that one, he came off well in it, his illusions playing a vital role in their success. Syn had given him several appreciative looks during the telling and he found himself feeling far warmer towards Fandral than he had in quite some time.

“My lady Syn,” Thor said when the other man was finished. “We’ve spoken of ourselves all night. Please, tell us a tale of your own.”

It looked as though she blushed, even in the dim light. “I don’t know that I have any good stories,” she said. “At least none as interesting as the ones I’ve heard tonight. I grew up a sheltered princess. Coming to Asgard has been the grandest adventure I’ve had.”

“Show us a little magic, then” Fandral said. “We’ve seen Loki’s tricks as often as he’s heard our stories.”

“Did you just accuse me of being repetitive?” Loki asked. “You invite me to think of new tricks, Fandral.”

The swordsman held up a placating hand. “Perish the thought, I’ve only just had the lady forgive me.”

“A trick, lady,” Sif joined in. “Distract Loki from his wrath, for Fandral’s sake.”

Syn smiled and tilted her head as if in thought. Then she stretched her hands out in front of her, palms up, and the ceiling lit with golden fireworks. The others gasped and shouted in delight and Syn’s smile widened.

Then Loki reached past her for his wine and his arm brushed hers. Without his willing it, his magic rushed towards her in a cool, green flood. In an instant the sparks above them grew brighter and larger, the display far more magnificent. And a faint tinge of green touched the gold. The others, assuming it was part of the show, never took their eyes off the ceiling. They didn’t see Loki and Syn staring at each other, then the spot where their arms touched and their magics blended.

She slowly closed her fingers and, with one final blaze, the fireworks dissipated. He moved his arm away and his magic quieted, pooling in his center once more. He could tell by the stark look in her eyes that she had been as surprised as he. He’d never heard of two people sharing magic that way. In all the years he’d trained with his mother, his magic had never rushed to her aid the way it had to Syn just then.

He glanced up at the now dark ceiling. It had been a fantastic display, almost double what she had done at the beginning. He wondered what would happen if they tried some proper magic. A conjure or an illusion. Could they conjure something from the air? He had begun, recently, dabbling in teleportation and portal making. Travel that didn’t require the Bifrost. There was information on it, buried deep in the older tomes of the library. He had neglected to mention his new curiosity to his mother, thinking she would disapprove. He wondered what Syn would think of his endeavors.

The others had started to roust Volstagg. The celebration in the main ballroom was certainly over by now. There was usually an elaborate breakfast planned to bid farewell to the guests and they’d all regret missing it. “A lovely display to end the eve on,” Hogun told Syn, bowing over her hand. She smiled and blushed prettily at the warrior before he went to help Volstagg figure out which room was his.

Fandral and Sif both said their goodnights, as did Thor, with a rather meaningful look to Loki when he did. For the life of him, Loki didn’t know if that look was meant to warn him _against_ getting into mischief with Syn or intended to encourage him towards it.

In any case, he soon found himself alone with her in the wreckage of their private soiree. He surveyed the scattered plates and cups a moment before looking down at her. “May I walk you to your chambers?” he asked, finding solace in manners.

She tipped her goblet to finish the last of her wine and nodded. “I would appreciate it, thank you.”

They walked through the dark, quiet halls of the palace in companionable silence, shoulder to shoulder but not touching. He watched her from the corner of his eye and caught her glance up at him more than once, but neither of them spoke. He had a feeling they were both thinking along the same lines, but neither knew how to start the conversation.

When they reached her chambers, she stopped and faced him, back to the closed door, body language clearly indicating this was as far as he was getting. Well, Thor would either be proud of or disappointed in him in the morning. “Thank you for the invitation,” she told him. “I had a far better time with you and your friends than I would have with my family.”

“I’m glad you found the warriors recitation of their prowess amusing.”

“It passed the evening,” she said lightly, smiling at him. “They managed to mention your exploits more than once. Perhaps sometime I could hear them from you?”

He was absolutely not blushing. It was only the warmth of the wine finally hitting him. “I fear I wouldn’t tell them with quite so much verve.”

“Ah, but I can see when a teller is exaggerating his tale. Plain speaking is my preference.”

Loki laughed. “I’ve never been accused of plain speak.” He tipped his head down to look at her. “Still, should the occasion arise, I might find it in me to spin you a tale someday.”

For a moment she looked as if she’d sway closer to him. Her lids lowered slightly and her smile changed, growing warmer. “I had thought to visit the library after breakfast tomorrow, once I’d seen my family off.”

“Was there something in particular you intended to study?” he asked, the picture of innocence.

“I have heard remarkable things about the benefits of sharing magic between two people.” She watched his face intently as she spoke. “I had hoped to find more information.”

“Ah,” he said softly. “That subject has piqued my interest recently as well. I may join you in your study.”

“You would be most welcome,” she told him, voice pitched just as soft. “But for now, I should say goodnight.”

Against all common sense, he bent a little closer to whisper in her ear, “Sleep well, Syn.”

He heard her quiet intake of breath and when she spoke, her voice quavered. “Until tomorrow, Loki.” Then she opened the door behind her and slipped inside.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on getting this up. Sick kid plus a wrist sprain left me a bit useless this week.
> 
> Love, as always, to my fab beta SweetTea.

Loki woke far later than his usual hour. Breakfast had been cleared and by the sound of things, the majority of the guests had vacated the premises. He stole an apple from the kitchen and made his way to the library, idly wondering if Syn had grown tired of waiting for him.

No, there she was, near the top of one of the ladders, one foot hooked around the side in an effort to brace herself. She had two books tucked under her arm and her fingers were walking across the spines of a row of books above her head. She paid him no heed as he entered the room.

He stopped a few feet from the ladder, far enough away he could not be accused of attempting to peek up her skirts, and tipped his head back. “I apologize for keeping you waiting.”

She tilted her head to peer down at him. “No need, I’ve only arrived half an hour ago. My family required a lengthy goodbye.”

Poor thing. He should probably be impressed she’d made it here at all and not stopped in the mead cellar for the foreseeable future. “And have you sufficiently seen them off?”

“With unseemly delight,” she assured him. She looked back at the shelf she had been perusing. “I am glad you’re here, though. This has become something of a treasure hunt.”

“How so?”

“I have so far found only the vaguest mentions of sorcerers sharing power. Fortunately, one of those mentions included a source, which I tracked down. It, however, contained only a second hand account of it. So I tracked down the author of the _original_ event description. His name was Flamel and he wrote at least a dozen books on advanced and unusual magic uses and I am now tracking down every single one of them in order to find the original description.” She pulled a very thick volume off the shelf. “Hold out your hands.”

He obeyed and, with a shimmer of gold, the book disappeared from her hand and reappeared in his. “You could have just sent it to the table,” he said, watching her carefully descend the ladder.

“I could see you; it was an easier path.” She dropped lightly to the ground next to him and smiled. “I think what we did last night was rather extraordinary.”

For a brief moment, he let himself pretend she was referring to a far more earthier practice than magic sharing. Then he mentally shook himself and focused on the topic at hand. “I agree.”

She placed the books she’d brought down on the nearest table. He could see in her smile and bright gaze that her mind had been traveling down the same paths as his. The potential uses for the trick they had discovered. The possibilities. He set the book she had given him on the stack with hers and gave her a wide, toothy smile. She returned it and together they turned back to the book shelves.

They took turns scaling the ladder and staying on the ground. Within the hour, they had collected ten of the twelve volumes of the author Syn had singled out. When they were both convinced the missing volumes were either not in the library or so completely mis-shelved as to be impossible to find, they sat at the table together and began to read.

At luncheon he was able to convince a servant to bring them a tray of food so they didn’t have to interrupt their research. He thought his mother may have poked her head in at some point, but she hadn’t said a word so it must not have been important. 

He was beginning to entertain the idea of ordering dinner the same way he had ordered lunch when Syn straightened and stretched. She had somehow ended up sitting cross-legged on top of the table while he slouched in one of the chairs, feet up on another. The movement caught his eye and he found himself watching her back arch and the fabric of her dress shift against her skin. “It may be time for a break,” she said ruefully. “My eyes have gone crossed.”

Loki was generally not one to readily admit defeat. Still, it had been several hours. “Have you found anything of use?” he asked. 

“Flamel has several very interesting theories on teleportation between realms,” she said, sliding off the table to stand next to Loki’s chair. “But none of the volumes I’ve gone through had mention of power sharing. You?”

“No,” he admitted, closing the book he held with a snap. “But there are three volumes neither of us has touched.” He indicated the small stack still sitting on the table. “Perhaps we could split them? A little bedtime reading?”

The look she gave him could only be called “indulgent.” She scooped up the books and placed two of them in his lap before tucking the third under her arm. “I will take this to my room. But then I am going to supper before your brother and Volstagg have picked it down to the bones.” She poked his chest lightly. “Will I see you there?”

He resisted looking down at the spot she had touched him. “Later. I just want to finish what I’m reading.”

She tilted her head, studying his face. “You’re sure?” He gave a nod and she smiled. “I’ll see you later, then.” With that, she turned and left in a swish of blue skirt.

Loki bent his head and opened the book he had been in the middle of, getting back to work.

 Sometime later a plate of meat, potatoes, and bread was left at his elbow, along with a flagon of wine. His mother had long made a habit of bringing him food when he was too far into his books. Half the time it went untouched, or pecked at after it had long turned cold. Still, he always appreciated the thought. He would be even thinner than he was if she didn’t think of him.

He lifted his head after finishing the page he was on, intending to call out a thank you. But instead of his mother, he saw a flash of Alfan blue and hair that defied comparison slipping out the door.

*

Loki spent the next three days buried in books. Syn joined him the first day, perched on the table like a bird, reading every book he handed her. Flamel had proven fruitless, so Loki had simply dug up as many old and obscure tomes he could find, hoping that one would have some mention of what they had experienced. Together, they had poured over one dusty book after another, till their eyes watered and their fingers turned grey with ink and grime.

On the second day, they agreed it would be far less suspicious if one of them at least attempted to act normally. Since Loki was more familiar with the library, it was Syn who made an appearance at breakfast, attended lessons with Frigga, and made sure to be seen in the gardens and Great Hall. Loki locked up for days hunting down some bit of knowledge was common enough to not encourage talk. Both of them together would send up alarms in no time. He found he rather missed her company, but the books distracted him, as always.

It was quite late on the third night that he found the answer. His first instinct was to wake Syn to share the passage with her. Fortunately, he came to his senses halfway to her chambers and realized the multitude of reasons barging into a lady’s room at four in the morning was a bad idea. He detoured to his room to get some rest, determined to wake early to catch her as soon as possible.

The sun was fully in the sky when he finally roused, his string of late nights finally catching up with him. Loki dragged himself from his bed and dressed, tucking the rather ancient book he’d found under his arm before leaving his chambers. A knock on Syn’s door was met with silence, nor did he find her at breakfast. He dodged his mother’s worried looks, grabbed a slice of buttered toast and headed out to look for her.

His mother had taught him a finding spell once, useful for the retrieval of magical items that had wandered off. In theory, he should be able to use it to find Syn. She was, in a way, a magical item. It required silence and concentration, neither of which he wanted to take the time to find. If they were going to continue this partnership they seemed to be embarking on, they were going to need to find a way of keeping track of each other. The palace was too large for him to go on a wild goose chase every time he found something interesting to show her.

Eventually, he found her on the archery range. She wasn’t wearing a quiver, simply putting her hand out and conjuring the arrows as she needed them. He watched her hit the bullseye, grinning, then whistled to get her attention. She paused, hand out for the next arrow and turned to look, smiling when she saw him.

“I was beginning to think you’d never leave the library again,” she called, putting her bow down as he reached her.

“I’m confident you would have lead the search party to unearth me eventually.” He held out the book. “I found it.”

Her eyes lit up. “Tell me.”

They sat in the shade of the garden wall, shoulder to shoulder, as he opened the book and she craned her neck to peer at it. “This is one of the oldest books in the library,” he said. “It took me all this time just to dig it out, but it does have a first hand account of a magic sharing ceremony.”

She looked at him. “Ceremony?”

“Yes. Here.” He pointed to the text. “Apparently, the casual sharing that we did is uncommon but not unheard of. People with complementary powers can give each other a boost when in contact with each other.”

Syn looked skeptical. “I’m not sure I would describe our powers as complementary. Opposite, perhaps.”

A fair point, that. She was completely unable to produce an illusion, whereas he could make copies of himself to stretch from here to the Bifrost. And he could barely heal a paper cut while she had been called to the healing hall by Eir twice since she’d come to Asgard, both times making the difference between life and death for the injured warrior. “There are all manner of ways to be complementary,” he said. “Where would truth be without lies to define them?”

That earned him an arched brow and a quirked smile. “Maybe you are a little silvertongued.”

He was absolutely not blushing. He cleared his throat and turned back to the book. “In any case, what was not common was a magic sharing ceremony. It was used when one sorcerer needed to literally use another’s supply of power. There’s only record of it being done a handful of times, mostly in an effort to turn the tide of a battle.” He ran his finger along the line of text and she bent close to read it, her hair sliding over his shoulder. She smelled of citrus and the fresh, clean scent of earth after spring rain. Loki glanced skyward to collect himself.

“‘As with most blood magic, intent is key,’” Syn read. “‘The participants each cut upon themselves to allow blood to flow. The wounds are pressed together and breath is shared. Afterwards, the font of power of one is available to the other and vice versa. Moreover, it has been reported that those so bonded developed a sympathetic connection to each other, becoming in tune to feelings and needs and becoming able to find the other unerringly over great distance. This would last until the bond was broken by death.’” She leaned back, mouth pursed. “That sounds very. . . permanent.”

“Yes,” he agreed, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “And a bit of overkill. I don’t expect either of us to require that much power for anything.” He knew, theoretically, how much potential magic he had buried within. He had only ever scratched the surface of it, even when fighting or hunting. If he continued in his studies, he imagined a time would come when he would tap it fully, especially if his research on inter-realm travel came to fruition. He suspected she had nearly as much as he did, given the speed in which she picked up new skills and the depth of healing she was currently capable of. Anything that would require both of those resources pooled together. . . that would be something rather world shattering.

He held out his hand. “Still, experimenting with the more straight forward version seems worthwhile. If you’re willing.”

She eyed his hand as if it were a snake that might attack. “There’s something I should warn you about.”

An ominous sentence if ever there was one. “What is it?”

“The truth curse that I told you about? It doesn’t just affect me. People who touch me are compelled to speak the truth, as well.”

Idly, he thought back to his interactions with her and realized she did, indeed, seem to avoid touching people as a rule. He filed the information away and stretched his fingers out. “I will endeavor not to make any embarrassing confessions.”

Still uncertain, she reached out and placed her hand in his. Her skin was soft, free of callouses, even from the archery. And she was very warm. He curled his fingers around hers and reached for his magic. It came quickly, as it always did, a chill of green that pooled in his chest before filling him up. But this time, it was chased by a flood of warm gold. He gestured with his other hand, conjuring the illusion of a cat. They watched with a combination of wonder and amusement as the creature groomed its paw, stretched, and rubbed its cheek against Loki’s boot. 

He grinned widely. “It has weight to it,” he said quietly. “Normally they shatter when touched.” He gestured again and the cat disappeared in a shimmer of green-gold. He released her hand and she took it back, returning it to her knee. 

“Is that what you were hoping to do?” she asked.

“I was curious. I didn’t know what your power would do to an illusion. If your truth sense would weaken it. Apparently not.”

She propped her chin on her knee, contemplating the spot the cat had lain. “What next?”

Before he could respond, there was a clatter of weapons and the thud of footsteps. Warriors come to use the practice field. Syn made a face that was a blend of dismay and panic. He sympathized; they’d both be teased if caught here. He caught her eye and looked up at the wall. She gave a nod and he helped her to her feet, then boosted her over the wall. She took a moment to give him one last smile before disappearing into the garden.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sick at home with a sick baby and am making myself feel better by posting fic chapters.
> 
> This is my favorite chapter in this part (I've broken the story up into parts for my own sanity). It was probably my beta's least favorite. In her honor I am making and official GIANT SPIDER WARNING for all the arachnaphobes in the audience. I apologize for any trauma.
> 
> SweetTea is an awesome beta even when being creeped out by story content.

Summer slipped away in a series of lessons, feasts, hunts with Thor and the warriors, and stolen moments with Syn, practicing their magic. Before long, the days had begun to shorten and the chill of autumn touched the air. The harvest celebration loomed on the horizon and Loki could think of nothing he wanted to do less than be stuck at yet another ball.

He spent the day before the feast trying to track Syn down and always just missing her. If he didn’t know any better, he’d have thought she was avoiding him, but he could think of no reason for her to do so. In an act of desperation, he waited outside her window after supper.

The lights came on and he watched the shadows of her and her maids as she got ready for bed. He looked away a few times, feeling like an idiot at best and a pervert at worst. It wasn’t as if he could see anything interesting, only the vaguest impression of movement. But his rather vivid imagination filled in everything important.

Finally, it looked like she was alone. The lights dimmed a bit, but he could still see a faint glow, as if she had a small lamp on to read by. It was only then he realized he didn’t know how to get her attention. Anyone else he would have sent an illusion to bring her to the window, but he wasn’t entirely sure she would notice one. He couldn’t see her and so couldn’t change something in her eye line into something else. At a loss, and a bit concerned she would fall asleep before he thought of anything else, he put two fingers in his mouth and whistled sharply.

It took three of those irritating whistles for her to appear at her window, draped in a gold and blue robe, hair loose around her face. She frowned, scanning the garden trees, before spotting him. She smiled and crossed her arms on the window sill. “What are you doing out there?”

“I’ve been trying to talk to you all day,” he said a little defensively. “You’ve been elusive prey.”

She tilted her head. “I apologize. You could have sent me a note.”

“I needed an immediate answer.” He folded his hands behind his back. “I was wondering if you’d accompany me on a quest tomorrow.”

A brow hiked up. “A quest? For what?”

“Legend has it there is a particular flower that only blooms when the full moon occurs on the autumnal equinox. The blossoms are an integral part of several hard to make spells and potions. I was hoping you would come look for it with me.”

She lifted a hand to prop her chin on. “Normally, I would think you were spinning a tale, but there isn’t a hint of a lie on your face.”

“I assure you I’m entirely serious.”

“A flower. That only blooms under extremely precise circumstances.” He nodded. “And tomorrow just happens to meet those circumstances?”

“Yes.”

 “Are you sure this isn’t a ploy to avoid attending the harvest feast?”

He tapped his chin with a finger. “Is that tomorrow? I had completely forgotten.”

She pointed a finger at him. “Now, see, that was a lie.”

“Will you come on my quest or no?”

There was a moment when she seemed to contemplate the request. Then she smiled. “Of course.”

He resisted bouncing on his toes. “Excellent. I’ll see you at dawn, at the stables. Wear something you can ride in.”

She lifted a fist to her chest in a salute. “As you command.”

He expected to wait for her in the morning. She struck him as someone who enjoyed her sleep and he hadn’t given her much warning for her early day. To his surprise, he barely had time to saddle his horse and select a good mount for her when she entered the stable. She wore a rich blue tunic over brown leggings and boots. The simple clothes hugged her curves and made her legs look unrealistically long. Her hair was pulled back in an elaborate braid and she carried a small bag and her bow. “Good morning,” she said, voice still rough from sleep.

“I admire promptness,” he told her. “I was going to tack this filly for you, unless you have another you prefer.”

She joined him at the stall door and reached out to the horse. It sniffed her hand and she stroked its muzzle. “I’m sure she’ll be fine,” she told him, stepping back so he could lead the horse out.

“Do you ride often?” he asked her, saddling the roan filly.

“Not at home, no.” She watched him with interest as he moved. “To be honest, I wasn’t allowed off the palace grounds often. Certainly not alone. Or unchaperoned with a man.” He glanced at her, brow raised. “Yes, my mother would be scandalized,” she told him with a smile.

“I’ll attempt to remember my manners,” he assured her. He held out a hand and took her bag and bow, fastening both to the saddle, then stepped back. “Do you need help into the saddle?” He wasn’t entirely sure which answer he preferred. He hadn’t expected to find her riding gear more alluring than her usual gowns. This might be a very long day.

She strode towards him and notched her foot into the stirrup. She gave him a look that was part haughty and part determined and hauled herself up into the saddle with a ripple of muscle. He forced himself to watch her hands gathering up the reins as they seemed the safest body part to focus on. He did catch her tossing her braid over her shoulder and grinning at him out of the corner of his eye.

When she was settled, he went back to his horse and mounted quickly. He gathered up the reins and urged his horse out of the stable. He could hear her following at his heels.

*

“I will say this for you, Loki, you know how to show a lady a good time.”

He glanced up at Syn where she sat a few feet away, perched higher in the branches of the tree they had both been forced to climb. She didn’t notice the glare, as she was busy aiming an arrow at the extremely large spider that was currently stalking them.

And by extremely large, he meant had it been of a more friendly disposition, they could have ridden it instead of their horses. With room for his brother. And all of their bags. As it was, their own horses had fled at the first sight of the monstrosity, leaving them on foot and vulnerable.

“I appreciate your ability to stay calm in an emergency,” he told her, eyeing the creature once more.

“Emergency? You mean you didn’t _know_ the magical blooming plant was guarded by a spider the size of a bear?”

He honestly couldn’t tell if she was terrified or enjoying herself. “It wasn’t mentioned in my book, no.”

She took her eyes off the creature to toss him a look. “If we survive this, I’m writing that author a very firmly worded letter.”

“I’ll help. Can you hit it from here or not?”

She turned to sight down the length of her arrow. “The last three arrows have bounced off her hide. I don’t know that wasting any more will help.”

That’s what he was afraid of. Loki had never encountered this particular type of monster before, but seemed to recall Thor had run into one once. If he remembered correctly, his brother had had little success slaying the spider until he’d managed to strike a blow in its eyes. Unfortunately, this one’s head was arranged such that they couldn’t see its eyes from this angle. It would either need to climb the tree - unlikely and serving to lose their hiding spot - or they would need to fight it on the ground.

Well, if there was one thing he was good at it was planning. He scanned the nearby terrain and gave a sharp nod. “I’ll distract it. You get on the ground and flank it. Try to put an arrow right in her eye. There are eight to choose from so you should have no problem.”

She lowered the bow to look at him fully and for the first time, he saw fear in her eyes. “How are you going to distract it?”

He started to climb down the tree. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m very clever. I’ll think of something.”

“Loki. Loki!” She slung her bow on her shoulder, trying to follow him down. 

“Hush, you’ll distract it from my distraction.” He hung from the lowest branch and twisted his wrist, creating a copy of himself a few yards away. The spider didn’t notice it immediately and he conjured a stone to throw in the same direction.

The rustle of the stone hitting brush did the trick, and it turned away from their tree to investigate. He took the opportunity to leap to the forest floor and run in the opposite direction. The spider noticed, turning again to give him chase. Well, that had worked almost too well.

Dimly, he heard the thump that must have meant Syn had hit the ground. Excellent, now to lead the creature back to-

In his distraction, he ran directly into a web stretched between two large trees. It wasn’t substantial enough to entangle him completely, but it was enough to make him stumble and slow, spitting out the gossamer that had attached to his face. That pause was enough for the spider to gain ground on him.

He turned to face it, ignoring the web still clinging to him and conjured a dagger, pulling his hand back as the creature reared up. He released the dagger just as an arrow whizzed past his cheek, burying itself in one of the spider’s eyes. His dagger took out another and he pulled another weapon from the air as another arrow flew past.

In moments the creature was down, every eye perforated by something pointy. He turned to see Syn picking her way through the brush to his side. She cast a distasteful glance at the creature’s corpse, then looked at him. Shaking her head, she reached out to pluck some webbing from his hair. “That was a terrible plan.”

“I don’t know what you mean. It worked, didn’t it?” He passed his hands down his front, dissolving the webbing in a wave of magic. When he was mostly clean, he gave her a sideways glance. “I suppose you want to go find the horses and head home?”

She tucked her bow onto her back and arched a brow. “Absolutely not. I was promised a rare flower and I intend to see it, monstrous arachnids or no.”

His face split into a wide, genuine grin. “Onwards, then.”

They made it to the site of the plant without further incident and settled in to wait for it to bloom. Silence stretched for a while, until it occurred to him to say, “I apologize for almost getting you eaten by an oversized spider.”

“Unless you did it on purpose, I don’t see why you should apologize.” She flashed a grin at him. “It was an adventure. I’ve never had an adventure before.”

By the realms, being a princess must be excruciatingly boring. “Not ever?”

“No. I used to follow my brother and his friends into the gardens when they were playing but they were never quite sure if I was welcome or not. Eventually, my parents declared it unladylike and I was encouraged to stay inside with my lessons.” She leaned back on her hands, stretching her legs out in front of her. “No one has ever dragged me out into the woods to search for a mythical plant and fight monsters.”

He really shouldn’t find the sight of her stretched out like that quite so distracting. Either she had no idea what effect she had on him, or she knew perfectly well and was teasing. Either option didn’t bode well for him. “Perhaps I should do it more often.”

She didn’t respond immediately, but he could see her eyes light up at the idea. She pointed to the little bush. “Your flowers are blooming.”

*

The ride into the woods had taken almost half a day. Hiking out without the horses took up most of the night. He offered to stop and make camp a few times but Syn assured him that, fragile Alfan princess though she was, she could go without sleep if it meant reaching the palace sooner.

When they finally reached said palace, they found the makings of a search party being formed in the yard. That. . . that did not bode well.

Thor noticed them first and called Loki’s name so loudly they likely heard it in Jotunheim. The big blond oaf crashed through the two stable hands that had been tacking his horse so that he could scoop Loki up in an embarrassingly tight hug.

“Oh, for Yggdrasil’s sake, we were only gone one night,” he protested, trying to wriggle out of Thor’s arms. His brother had never learned an ounce of decorum, despite their mother’s best attempts.

Speaking of their mother, she was now crushing Syn in a similarly enthusiastic hug. “When your horses arrived riderless this morning, we feared the worst.”

Syn made a noise that indicated the queen was compressing her lungs a little firmer than necessary. “Oh, good. They made it back.”

Frigga released her, only to take her shoulder and hold her at arm’s length. “What happened? Where have you been?”

They hadn’t bothered to come up with an innocent excuse, since she would have been unable to lie, anyway. Syn cast him an apologetic look and responded, “We went looking for a particular plant and were accosted by a giant spider. It scared the horses away, but we dispatched it fairly easily. Then we had to walk home.”

Loki admired her ability to strip a story to bare bones so that it was not only true, but sounded extremely boring. Thor interrupted his thoughts with a slap on the back. “You took down an Arachne? I’m impressed, brother.”

“It was a joint effort,” Loki demurred, glancing at Syn again.

His mother looked from one to the other, face a blend of uncertainty and suspicion. “And you’re both all right?”

“I’m fine, Mother,” he said, though he was fairly certain the question had been mostly addressed to Syn. “Though I wouldn’t say no to a hot meal.” He tried to ignore the little guttural noise of agreement Syn made.

“Of course,” Frigga said, stretching to pat his cheek. “Why don’t you both go freshen up and I’ll have the cooks prepare something special for you?”

“Thank you, Mother,” he said, not bothering to hide his affection. It was nice to be home after a night spent hiking in the forest.

She gave him a bright smile and slid an arm around Syn’s shoulders as she lead her up to the palace steps.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to SweetTea for awesome betaing.
> 
> This is the last chapter of what I dubbed Part One. Part Two will be the events of the first Thor movie. There may be a bit of a gap before the next chapter as I want to make sure my buffer is healthy. But it will definitely go up.

His mother spent the next few days hinting - subtly and not so subtly - that it might be in Loki’s best interest to give the visiting princess a wide berth. He really didn’t know what the fuss was about. Syn had vouched for him and she couldn’t lie if she wanted to, so obviously nothing untoward had happened. Granted, taking a sheltered princess out into the forest probably counted as “untoward” in some circles. But wasn’t the important thing that they’d both come back safely?

Still, to appease his mother, he gave Syn space. He was busy with his research anyway and she knew where to find him if she wanted him.

And find him she did one crisp evening after the first snow. He had spent the morning training with his brother and the afternoon buried in the darkest, oldest corner of the library. Evening found him in a side parlor with the book on inter-realm travel he had been hunting the library for. The air coming through the wide windows was cold, but he had a cup of tea and blankets. The cold had never bothered him much, anyway.

Syn had reached the end of the chaise he was lounging on before he noticed her. He looked up and offered her a smile. “Not many people can sneak up on me,” he told her, shifting so she had space to join him.

“Deep as you were in your reading, it wasn’t hard,” she told him, sinking onto the edge of the chaise. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I’ve been busy,” he said, trying not to sound defensive. “My studies,” he added, gesturing with his book.

She tilted her head to read the page he was on. “Portal travel? Growing tired of the Bifrost?” Her brow arched and she gave him a mischievous smile.

“It’s an idle curiosity,” he said lightly. He could tell from her expression she didn’t entirely believe him. “Was there something you needed?” he asked, hoping to distract her. Her smile said she knew exactly what he was doing but was going to let him get away with it this time.

“I have to go home to Alfheim tomorrow. My parents want to see me for mid-winter and then I’m to stay for new year and the anniversary of my father’s coronation. So it will be spring before I can return.”

Blood had started to roar in his ears as soon as she’d said she was leaving. He had thought she was here for the foreseeable future. Everything seemed to be going well with her work with his mother; she seemed happy. He would not have avoided her if he knew she was leaving so soon. “But you will be coming back?” he asked, unable to even feign a casual tone.

She smiled. “Yes. I promise. I made it very clear I wasn’t done with my studies here. I’ll be back in the spring, whether my parents like it or not.” 

Loki let out a breath a nodded, reassured. “It will be a very dull winter without you here to entertain me.”

“Not nearly as dull as mine will be,” she told him. “There’s no one to get in trouble with back home.” She gave a little gesture and something wrapped in blue silk appeared in her hands. “Because I’ll be gone for mid-winter, I wanted to give you this now.” She put the present on the chaise next to him.

Hesitantly, he picked up the little bundle of silk. Whatever was wrapped inside was hard and solid. He carefully peeled back the fabric to reveal a gold armband, intricately carved in the shape of a snake, with green stones for eyes. He turned the band over in his hands, studying it.

“I just thought . . you made me that snake the first time we spoke, and I thought you might -”

“It’s lovely.” He glanced up at her uncertain expression. “I like it very much. Thank you. Is this a locator rune?” he asked, pointing at the little carving that resembled a squared off capital R.

She looked like she was blushing. “Yes. You often complain I’m hard to find so I had a matching bracelet made. So we can find each other when we want to get into trouble.”

He grinned widely. “That’s very clever.” With a thought, the band disappeared from his hand and wrapped around his left bicep. It was warm from her hands and fit him snugly.

She lifted her wrist to reveal the matching bracelet, so polished and shiny it seemed to almost glow against her skin. It was also fashioned into the shape of a serpent. But while his looked ready to strike, hers wrapped languidly around her wrist as if sunning itself on a branch. The metal worker who had fashioned them was one of singular skill.

“I have a present for you, as well,” he heard himself say.

Her eyes lit up in a blend of surprise and pleasure. “Really?”

Until a few seconds ago, he had still been debating giving it to her. But as she obviously felt they were close enough to share location devices - that must have cost a fair amount of coin, even if she had been the one to enchant them - he felt comfortable giving her the trinket he had made.

He held out his hand and with a flicker of power, a long chain dangled from it. On the chain was a single charm, an opaque orb slightly smaller than a peach pit. It was soot black. Syn tilted her head, peering at it with curiosity. “What is it?”

“Watch,” he said. He looped the chain over her head and settled the necklace on her. The orb lay against her dress where it stretched over her breasts. As they watched, the black swirled and changed to a brilliant white-gold. He grinned. “It’s enchanted. It changes with the wearer’s mood and whims. So that it matches any occasion or outfit.”

She cupped the charm in her hand. He watched a line appear between her brows and the color of the orb swirled from gold to bright sky blue to a rich forest green and then back to an almost blinding white. She lifted her head and grinned at him. “It’s wonderful. Thank you.”

Madly, he felt heat in his face and tried to hide it by looking back at the charm, then realized that required him to focus on her breasts. He studied her bracelet instead. “Well, you helped find the components for it, so. . .”

She laughed. “This is what that blasted flower was for?”

“Among other things, yes.” Loki risked a look at her face. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I _love_ it,” she told him sincerely. There was a long moment of silence between them, not awkward, but heavy with things unsaid. Then Syn blinked a few times and looked away. “I should finish packing. I just wanted -” She stood. “Thank you for the necklace.”

“Thank you for the armband.” He paused, a thousand things he wanted to say. He wanted to ask to see her off. If there was anyone besides her family waiting for her in Alfheim. If she would miss him. Maddest of all was the urge to go with her. Finally, all he said was, “I’ll see you in the spring.”

She smiled and he thought there was sadness in it. “Until the spring.”

* * *

End Part One


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we begin Part 2 and the events of Thor.
> 
> My continued gratitude to SweetTea and her gracious betaing.

Loki stormed from his father’s study straight out to the gardens. It was not a conscious decision, just a convenient direction to go in his fury. He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised to find his mother out there, calmly pruning her roses. He strode to her side and watched her clippers snap, fuming quietly.

“He told you, then,” she finally said. The serenity of her tone grated on his raw nerves.

“How long have you known?” he asked, voice rasping out of his constricted throat.

“He’s been deliberating over this for some time.” She glanced Loki’s way. “We’ve spoken of it.”

“Thor is no more suited to be king than I am to - to recite poetry for the court.”

Frigga moved to the next rose bush. “I should like to see that. Perhaps we can add it to the coronation festivities.”

“Mother. You are not taking my ire seriously.”

She smiled at him in that patient, loving way she always did. Usually it soothed him. Today it only reminded him that he was, and always would be, a child in her eyes. “Your ire will not change the facts, my son. Your father will abdicate in a month’s time and then Thor will be king. But you will always be his brother, and a prince of this realm. I know that Thor will cherish your advice and counsel.” She lifted a hand to touch his cheek. “It’s not such a bad fate, is it? Being king is not as easy and glamorous as you may think.”

Loki moved away from her and the comfort of her touch. “I doubt Thor sees all that it entails, either.”

“Thor is proud and headstrong,” Frigga admitted. “But he will learn. That’s why it is important for him to take the throne while your father still lives. So he may guide him.” She paused. “Odin is no longer a young man, Loki. He worries for the future. Thor’s, yours and the realm’s. You must have faith in his decision.”

Loki had never been one to rely on faith. The thought of his father’s eventual mortality brought a sour taste to his mouth, far worse than the thought of Thor on the throne did. They might not see eye to eye on a regular basis, but he was still his father and a hero of Asgard. To watch him wither away to old age. . .

He shook his head, scowling. He’d been in a perfectly good pique before talking to his mother. He should have stormed about more before coming to her. She always knew exactly how to unknot him.

In the distance, the Bifrost blazed to life. Loki and his mother both turned to glance at it. Thor and the warriors had gone riding and there were no guests expected at the palace. Before he could ask Frigga who she thought it might be, the metal band on his arm, hidden beneath his tunic, flared with heat. It wasn’t painfully hot, just a sudden warmth, like a friendly hand on his skin. Despite his lingering irritation, he felt a smile curve his mouth.

His mother, as always, read him like a book. “Why don’t you go and greet her? I would, but I fear my gardening had been far too neglected.”

Just this once, he would allow her to play him. He bowed his farewell and made his way to the courtyard, just as Syn and her servants reached it. She was dressed in Alfan blue, with gold accents. Her bracelet shone on her wrist, winding up her forearm. His necklace bounced against her bodice, the orb a swirl of green and blue. She smiled widely when she saw him and ran the last few steps to hug him in greeting.

Loki was unaccustomed to being touched so casually. Thor liked to thump him on the back. His mother would take his arm or touch his face and even those caresses were growing rarer. He knew Syn was cautious about touch, as her curse compelled honesty from those she was in contact with. She told him she considered it rude to do it to people without permission. Save for their attempts at sharing power, they both kept careful and polite distance from the other. She had never embraced him before.

He found he rather liked it.

 She was warm and soft against his chest, arms flung around his neck. He slid his arms around her waist tentatively, pulling her a little closer. She still smelled of spring rains and citrus. Fresh and alive. He felt some of the anger he still held for his parents and Thor relax and indulged the instinct to bury his face in her hair and take a deep breath of her.

“I missed you,” she whispered in his ear and he felt her hand stroke his hair lightly.

The words settled on his heart like a warm, soft blanket. He didn’t know that anyone ever cared enough to miss him, specifically. He imagined his family noted his absence when he went wandering. But friends and other duties could distract them quickly. She’d been home for months, surrounded by family and festivities and still she’d missed him.

He tightened his arms on her before setting her away from him. He had no desire to hear what her powers might make him confess while she held him. Still, he said nothing but the truth when he told her, “The castle was not the same without you.”

She smiled. “I’m sure. I want to hear about all of the trouble you’ve been -” She stopped suddenly and tilted her head, studying him carefully. “What’s wrong?” she asked softly.

It was ridiculous for her to know him that well. For her to see his proper emotions even through the facade he had put on for her. He briefly considered lying, but realized it was futile. She would literally see through it and wasn’t likely to let it go. “You’ve come back just in time for a coronation,” he told her, bitterness staining the words.

He watched her process what he had said and saw the exact moment she realized what it meant. “Oh, Loki.” She touched his arm lightly with her fingertips. “I’m so sorry.”

It didn’t make it all better. Didn’t take the sting out of being second best. Of being passed over, once again. But for a moment, it was nice to feel understood. She couldn’t make it better, but she would at least know why it hurt.

She slid her arm through his and tugged him to start walking. “Come on. Let’s walk and you can tell me all the stupid, un-kingly things he’s done since I’ve been gone.”

Loki found himself chuckling a little. “And will you agree wholeheartedly and call him unflattering names?”

“Of course. The crudest I can think of.” She said it brightly, as if they were discussing the fine weather.

He couldn’t help but smile. He managed to resist the sudden, mad urge to kiss the top of her head. “Thank you,” he said softly.

She glanced up at him, green eyes warm, and returned his smile. “My pleasure.”

*

There was truly an astounding amount of people here to see the popinjay get crowned. Loki glanced around the arena, trying to recall if he’d ever seen this many bodies in one place before. He vaguely recalled watching his father’s army march out when he was a little boy. That had probably been close to this. But it had been from a distance and they’d been in organized formation, heading out to the Bifrost gate. This was a teeming crowd, bordering on chaos.

He scanned the faces for Syn and found her across from him, in the front, behind the line of guards. She was dressed in gold, not a hint of blue to be seen. The orb on her necklace was a bright green, a shade between her eyes and his cloak. She caught his gaze and smiled, then wrinkled her nose in an expression of exasperation. He had to lower his head to hide his laugh. At least someone else in the room thought this was as ridiculous as he did.

The crowd roared in a cheer and Loki glanced down the aisle to see his brother had appeared at the top of the steps, hammer raised above his head in triumph. He strutted down the steps like a peacock, tossing the weapon in the air with a flip when he reached the bottom. Even Sif was muttering under her breath at the display.

Loki glanced at Syn again and found her watching him and not Thor. He rolled his eyes at her and she grinned and returned the gesture. She glanced at his still strutting brother and gave a sad little shake of her head. Loki felt his shoulders relax a little. The crowd might be awed, but those who knew Thor saw through it all.

Thor finally finished his walk of triumph and reached the base of the dais, kneeling and taking off his helm. Of course, being Thor, he managed to make even that gesture of humility seem cocky. Especially giving the broad wink he gave their mother. Loki thought he could at least _attempt_ decorum. This was, after all, supposed to be a solemn and auspicious occasion. If it had been Loki being crowned-

No. Best not to think along those lines. His father was speaking now, Loki clenched his jaw and looked down, listening with only half an ear. He told himself it would be over soon and then he and Syn could tuck themselves in the corner of the feast and mock his brother’s arrogance.

 By the realms, the man couldn’t even take a solemn oath without grandstanding.

When Odin stopped and began to stare into the distance, everything in Loki went on alert. His father’s quiet proclamation of frost giants caused chaos in the crowd. The guards held back the people as Odin lead Loki and Thor down to the vaults to assess the damage. Behind him, he could hear his mother trying to calm the crowd and Sif and the Warriors organizing the evacuation of the citizens. He had a brief thought of Syn, but when he glanced over his shoulder, he could no longer spot her in the crowd. Well, she was clever. Nearly as clever as he was, sometimes. She’d see to herself.

Never did Loki feel quite so second best as when Thor and their father argued. He tucked himself to the side and watched two epic egos clash. Thor, as always, wanted war and vengeance. As if a small party sneaking about in the basement was a declaration of war and not just a desperate attempt to retrieve what the giants thought was theirs. His father, at least, seemed to be using his head for once.

And, truly, watching him shut down Thor’s little tantrum was glorious.

Thor went off to pout and Loki lingered in the vault a moment to make sure the injured guards were taken to the healing halls. Then he made his way to his chambers to rid himself of his ceremonial leathers. All in all, it had been a rather anticlimactic day. There hadn’t even been a proper fight with the invading Jotuns, let alone a coronation. Odin was still king. Thor was angry and petulant. And Loki, as always, stayed in the shadows unnoticed.

Once in his room he stripped out of his leathers and stepped into the wash room to splash water on his face and loosen some oils taming his hair. He needed to track Thor down and keep him from doing something tremendously stupid. Certainly no one else was going to do so. It was always his job to keep the great oaf in line.

He went back to his bedroom, stripped to his leggings, to find Syn lounging in an armchair by his cold fireplace. He resisted his first instinct, which was to cover himself like a shy maiden, and gaped at her. “What do you think you’re doing here? If someone found you -”

“Do people often search your chambers for wayward princesses?” she asked innocently.

“I am half dressed,” he said with all the dignity he could muster.

One of her brows arched gracefully. “I’ve two brothers and more male friends than I care to count. Do you really think a nude chest will send me scampering in innocent horror?” She tilted her head and her mouth quirked into a smile. “Nice as yours is.”

He was Loki the Trickster, of Asgard. He was absolutely _not_ blushing. “What do you _want_ , Syn?”

She propped her elbow on the arm of the chair and then her chin on her fist. “It’s funny. In the commotion after Thor’s horribly botched coronation, I somehow found myself in the basement. In the wine cellar near the vaults, as a matter of fact. Do you know what curious thing I found down there?”

Everything in Loki’s head went still and on alert. He felt his hands fist at his sides, but he kept his voice calm and neutral when he spoke. “I couldn’t begin to guess.”

“Chalk. A chalk drawing on the wall. Looked rather like a doorway, with runes all over it. What do you think such a thing could be?”

“Syn-”

“ _I_ think it might be a portal. A little doorway to another realm. Without having to use the Bifrost.” She tilted her head and tapped her mouth with a fingertip. “And I thought to myself, who do I know who has been reading about such things?”

He couldn’t ascertain from her tone if she was angry with him or not. “It was just a small trick. Something to trip up the golden boy on his big day.”

Syn shook her head. “Honestly, Loki. Jotuns? People could have been killed. The vault guards were badly hurt.”

“I knew the Allfather would head it off before it got serious. The vaults have the best security in the realms. And the guards will live to ripe old age, telling tales of their tangle with frost giants. The maids will be lining up to soothe their wounds.”

“Oh, well, that’s fine then.” She stood and stepped closer to him. “You never think of the consequences of your tricks, Loki. You have your clever idea and barrel ahead with no thought to who might be hurt along the way.”

“I don’t think that’s entirely true.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared up at him. “Giant. Spider.”

His mouth closed with an audible click. “Fair point,” he said finally. “But nothing disastrous happened this time. Thor’s a bit put out but my father set him to rights. They’ll reschedule the coronation once everyone has settled down. I’ll have had my fun. The golden prince still gets his crown. Everyone is happy.”

The look she indicated reminded him once again how futile it was to lie to her. She lifted a hand and touched his cheek and the feel of her fingertips warmed him to his core. Her eyes flicked back and forth as she studied him and he thought for a moment how easy it would be to get lost in them. To forget his anger and fears and revel in her obvious affection for him. He forced his spine perfectly straight and resisted wrapping his arms around her.

“Next time you think up some mad trick to play to humiliate your brother tell me before you go through with it.” She stroked his jaw lightly before letting her hand drop. “I might be of use.”

Loki couldn’t think of a thing to say. Her driving him to speechlessness was becoming a habit. He was saved from the embarrassment of trying to stutter out a response by a crash echoing through the palace halls. He sighed. “My brother’s tantrum appears to have hit the breaking things phase.”

Syn shook her head. “Go soothe him. It’s the least you can do.” She turned to head for the door.

“Will I see you later?” he asked in a rush.

She paused and looked back at him over her shoulder. “Of course. I want to hear details.” She gave him a wide smile that wrinkled her nose before disappearing into the hallway.

He smiled to himself as he dressed and went to find Thor. This was a far better day than he’d expected it to be.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ack, I have been so behind on editing and writing the last couple weeks! Here is an extra lengthy chapter to tide you all over for a bit :) It finally has their first kiss (and so much more!) Enjoy. I'll try to get chapter 9 out for the weekend.

Of course, things never worked the way Loki expected them to. He had honestly intended to try to soothe Thor’s ruffled feathers when he went to find him. But then his brother had started talking about his day of glory and huffing like an angry toddler and, well. . . sometimes the Trickster just came out. It wasn’t like they would actually _get_ to Jotunheim. Heimdall guarded the Bifrost gate and was possibly the most reasonable Asgardian in the realm. He would turn Thor back from his mad plan. And if he wouldn’t, then Loki would bungle their excuses so poorly he’d send them back on principle alone. Simple, really. People could be so predictable.

It was around the time that the king of the Jotun called Thor “princess” that Loki decided he would listen to Syn. Always. In all things. Forever. Assuming he survived to do so.

All in all, they held their own admirably. He rather suspected that if the Jotuns really wanted them dead, they would have been far more organized in their assault. It was possible Laufey was simply teaching Thor a lesson, giving him a taste of the battle he so longed for. Loki was almost enjoying himself until a dying frost giant grabbed his arm.

It was cold, but not the burning cold that Volstagg had warned them of. His skin. . . changed. Turned blue and lined, like the flesh of a Jotun. He staggered back a half step, staring. The creature that had gripped him met his gaze, expressionless. Not confused, not smug. Just neutral. As if it had known it would happen.

Loki took great pleasure in stabbing it in the heart before staring at his arm again. Without the touch of the giant, it slowly morphed back into the pale pink skin that he had always known. He swallowed down the knot of panic that had formed in his throat and glanced up. No one had seen, too busy with their own battles. Good. He could discern what it meant later. He didn’t have time to think of it now.  
 He was absolutely not thinking of it now.

To his left, he saw Fandral take several spikes to the chest and threw a dagger at the Jotun approaching to finish the job. He and Sif called to Thor almost in unison. “We must go!” Surely with his comrade incapacitated his brother would-

“Then go!”

Blasted, bloody, _idiotic_ oaf of a brother. He was going to play pranks on him for years for this. Itching spells. Sneezing spells. Maybe he’d turn him into a lizard and let the palace cats chase him.

Assuming that tusked behemoth didn’t finish the job for him.

They ran. Over cold, unstable rock that seemed as determined to kill them as the creature chasing them. Loki tried to keep the others in sight, to help if possible. But in the end it was really every one of them for themselves. They reached the end of the cliff, nothing but air before them, and called for Heimdall, only to have the beast they thought had fallen climb up to greet them instead.

Several things went through Loki’s mind as he watched the creature climb over the edge of the cliff. He wished he’d told Syn what they were doing and not that blasted guard. She was pragmatic, responsible, and above all incapable of lying. She’d have found a way to tell his mother and she’d have told Father and they’d be home already, getting lectured.

He wished he’d kissed her all those times he’d thought of it. Any of the times. At least once. 

He wished he’d helped his mother in her garden more and tried harder to make his father proud. He wished he’d simply patted Thor’s shoulder instead of egging him on.

He wished he knew why his arm had turned to that of a Jotun’s.

And then his idiot brother came flying through the air directly through what passed for the brain of the monster and Loki was able to bury all those idle wishes once more. He braced himself to face the legion of Jotun advancing on them, aware of the others doing the same. The odds were certainly not in their favor, but they’d certainly put up a good fight.

Then the sky lightened and opened and his father was beside them, on his horse, like something out of the myths. Loki felt a wave of relief, cutting through all the other raging emotions. Thor was still hoping to somehow muster a victory from this debacle and even Loki felt sorry for him when their father hissed for his silence. Listening to Odin and Laufey’s parley, Loki was struck once again by how poorly suited Thor would be for the throne. He couldn’t picture his brother using the calm, even tones that Odin employed.

His thoughts were confirmed by the argument that raged when they reached Asgard once more. For the second time that day, Loki stood to the side, all but forgotten, as Thor and Odin raged at each other. It seemed, finally, their father had seen Thor for what he truly was. A vain, greedy, cruel boy who would sentence their realm to chaos all for the sake of his bruised ego. It was a hard thing to watch and, though he had no idea what to say, Loki did try to intervene, only to be brought short by his father’s anger.

Never, never in all his tricks and machinations had Loki hoped to see his brother humiliated and banished. It was an outcome he had never even considered. Perhaps Syn was right. Perhaps his fault was shortsightedness, as Thor’s was pride and Odin’s rashness. He stood at the gate of the Bifrost and watched the portal close and felt an odd sort of stunned confusion. His brother was gone.

Odin spared him a grieved, exhausted look before turning to head down the bridge.

*

Loki strode away from Sif and out of the room, sure she and the warriors would have plenty to say in his absence. The things he’d said about Thor left a sour taste in his mouth. Sometimes he didn’t know himself if what he said was truth or simply the lies he told himself to justify his actions. Had it been an innocent trick, leaving the door open to Jotunheim? Could he have convinced Thor to leave well enough alone if he had tried? He shook his head sharply in an effort to clear it. The events leading to Thor’s banishment had been Thor’s to stop, not his.

But who was to blame when the dominoes fell? The one who pushed the first? Or the one who set them in a line in the first place?

He found himself in the vault almost against his will; Volstagg’s scarred arm a reminder of his own transformation. He walked slowly down the aisle towards the Jotun casket. It wasn’t too late to turn back. To go back upstairs. He could talk to his mother and see if she had the answers he sought. He could even go to Syn and try to find comfort in whatever it was they were dancing around. The thought was tempting, so tempting.

But not tempting enough to stop him from curling his hands around the casket’s handles and lifting it from its pedestal.

He thought it would hurt. He wanted it to hurt, to be so cold it burned his hands, seared them, crippled him. He wanted the pain to prove he was who he thought he was. But there was no pain, only a flood of power, cold and familiar, so like his own. It was a well of power far deeper than the one he tapped. It was intoxicating, so heady he barely heard his father’s cry from the other end of the hall.

The transformation was impossible to ignore, however. He watched the blue of the Jotun crawl up his arms. Felt his skin dry and harden like ice. He didn’t need a mirror to know his eyes were red by the time he turned to face Odin, the man who called him his son, though they now both knew it to be a lie.

His confusion and pain hardened him as he walked down the aisle to Odin. They sharpened further as he listened to the true tale of his infancy. That he was unwanted from the start, weak and small and left to die by a creature hated across the realms. When Odin was done speaking, all he could think to ask was, “Why? You were knee deep in Jotun blood. Why would you take me?”

He didn’t need Syn’s truth curse to see the lie in Odin’s response. “You were an innocent child.” In a calmer mood, Loki might have believed there was some truth to it. But he would never have assumed it was the _whole_ truth. He had learned his magic from his mother, but his plotting and calculating, that he had learned at Odin’s knee.

The truth, when it finally came out, twisted his pain into rage and hate for the man that had lied to him his entire life. Even Odin’s weary calm angered him. Did the man feel nothing? Not a hint of remorse for the deception of a thousand years?

“Why do you twist my words?”

And now, somehow, it was his fault. Everything was his fault, of course. As it always had been and always would be. So much of his life made sense now, thrown into harsh clarity.

“What? Because - because I am the monster parents tell their children about at night?”

He barely noticed his father sink to the stairs, ignored the beseeching hand that touched his. His fury was too great. Blinding and all encompassing. In that moment, he _hated_ the man with a depth of feeling he didn’t know he was capable of. He wanted to strike him, to make him feel a fraction of the pain he was experiencing.

That was when he realized Odin had collapsed, sprawled on the stairs, eyes closed, barely breathing. The hate drained from him as he crouched, choking on tears he didn’t want to acknowledge. His fingers curled around his father’s - no, not his father, never his father. Odin’s skin was warm and dry. With a deep breath, he summoned enough voice to call for the guards, for help, then stumbled back as they came and lifted their king.

He followed them as far as the door to Odin’s chamber. Frigga raced past, sparing him a single worried glance before going to attend to her husband. The doors closed, leaving Loki alone and reeling in the hallway.

In a daze, he made his way to his own room. Their words in the vault played over in his mind, sending his emotions swirling madly. First angry, then betrayed, then horrified. He was Jotun. Everything he had ever known about himself was a lie. Except the first and harshest truth. He was second best. Always and forever. The only difference was that now he knew the reason.

“Loki!”

Syn’s voice sliced through the fog and he repressed a shudder. He wasn’t prepared for her. Wasn’t ready to talk to her, to have her see the truth in his eyes. He turned to face her even as she continued to talk. “What is going on? I saw Fandral in the healing houses; he said you all went to Jotunheim?!”

He had wondered, idly, if she’d had anything to do with the swordsman’s rapid recovery. She reached him, hands on her hips, still ranting, “The courtiers are saying Thor’s been banished somewhere and stripped of his powers. Sif and the warriors are locked up in a parlor and won’t say a word to me. And now the guards are running about saying something’s happened to Odin! What in all the realms-” She stopped, as suddenly as if he’d dumped water on her and he saw her look at him, really _looked_ for the first time since she’d found him. Her face softened, hands dropping from her hips as her ire drained from her. “Loki,” she said again, voice now soft and worried. “What’s happened?”

She lifted a hand as if to touch his cheek and he caught her wrist, too raw to bear her gentle sympathy. He had to think of something to get rid of her. Some half truth he could make her believe. He couldn’t tell her the truth. He couldn’t-

He met her gaze, her eyes soft and green. He realized he was holding her wrist too tightly, tight enough to hurt her, but she didn’t react, just stood quietly and let him. Odin’s calm had infuriated him but hers steadied him. Let him find his center. He needed to send her away, but right then, she was the only thing in the world that he wanted. That he was sure of.

He released her wrist and slid his hand under her hair, cupping the back of her neck and dragging her close. She made a quiet noise of surprise just as his mouth claimed hers. There was a bare instant when she was frozen in surprise. Then her arms came around his waist and she began to kiss him back. Her hair was woven into a tight braid. With a shimmer of power, he dispensed with all the ties and pins confining it, then twined his fingers through it, spreading it over her back. He felt her fingers dig into his back and the little show of need snapped some of his control. He turned her and pressed her into the wall, swallowing the little gasp she gave at the impact.

It occurred to him then that they were in the hallway, for all to see, and that there was all manner of reasons for them not to be doing this. Rather than release her, he surrounded them both in his magic and brought them to his bedroom, where he pinned her against the door and lifted his head.

She blinked blearily and looked around, registering the fact they weren’t where they had started. She seemed to take it in stride and looked back at him. “Loki?”

He swallowed, running his fingers through her hair in an effort to soothe himself. When he spoke, he chose his words carefully, their contact requiring his honesty. “We went to Jotunheim. My brother started a war. My father sent him to Midgard, stripped of his powers and then fell into an Odinsleep. And I - I can’t -” He had to tell her. She would understand, wouldn’t she? She had always understood him before. Please let her understand.

Her fingers touched his jaw, hesitantly at first. “Shh,” she whispered. “It’s all right.” She stretched up on her toes to kiss him. “It’ll be all right.” She kissed him again, gently. Then again, this time with more heat. It was all the excuse he needed to deepen the kiss, coaxing her mouth open so he could taste her.

For a time, they were content just to kiss. His hands left her hair to explore her back, cup her face. Hers were shier, less bold. They stroked his face and throat, clutched at his waist. Without conscious thought, he tugged at the dove grey shawl draped over her shoulders. It slithered off, puddling at her feet.

When she had first come to Asgard, she’d worn Alfan clothes, all corsetry and wide skirts. A far cry from the simple drape and clean lines of Asgardian gowns. Over time her wardrobe had begun to shift closer to the Asgardian style, but still with hints of Alfan structure. When she’d returned from her visit home, it had been with what seemed like an entirely new wardrobe that seemed to expertly blend the two styles in ways that most flattered her. The gown she had on now was soot black, dark as his armor, with broad straps and a low neck. A half corset tucked in her waist and supported her breasts before tapering into a simple skirt of clean, straight lines. It managed to be more alluring than anything the more “fashionable” courtiers were wearing.

His fingers found the ties of the dress and tugged as he lowered his head to kiss her throat. He pressed his lips to her pulse and whispered, “We should stop. Tell me you want me to stop.”

Her breath rasped in his ear, ragged and shallow. He felt her swallow. “I can’t,” she said, before nuzzling him and finding the fastening of his armor with her own hands.

He could have stripped them both in seconds with his powers. So could she, for that matter. But the physical act of undressing was oddly intoxicating. Her hands snaked beneath his coat at the shoulder, sliding it down his arms, forcing him to release her as she stripped it from him. She tossed it behind him, onto the chair she had sat in earlier that day. 

How could it be only today? In a few scant hours his entire world had crashed down around him. Tomorrow would be more of the same. He would have to confront his mother and tell her what he knew. He would have to face his brother’s friends again, brace himself for their distrust and anger. He would have to find a way to do all this without Thor there. Despite their differences, despite the things he found maddening about him, Thor had at least tried to support Loki. He would miss the great oaf, especially now.

But that was tomorrow. Right now, the ties of Syn’s dress had finally yielded to his hands. He curled his fingers around the gaping fabric and tugged. The dress drooped, then slid down her body to pool around her feet, leaving her naked.

He froze, staring at her, taking her in. From her long, toned legs to the broad flare of her hips and slight curve of her stomach, to the perfect swell of her breasts. Finally, he met her gaze, her eyes darkened with lust till they were the color of oak leaves. Her cheeks were flushed, her mouth swollen and pink from his kisses. To him, there had never been a lovelier woman in all the realms.

“Beautiful,” he breathed, lifting a hand to cup her breast. “You’re so beautiful.” _What are you doing with a monster like me?_ He pushed the thought away and bent his head, lifting her breast up to take a peaked nipple in his mouth. She gasped, then moaned, digging her hands into his hair. He wrapped his free arm around her and lifted her, holding her against his chest as he sucked. Her nails scraped his scalp and he sucked harder, letting her feel his teeth. The spark of pain made her shudder in his arms.

He carried her to his bed, tucked in the corner of the room, near the window. He set her down on her feet, releasing her breast, and her hands flew to the ties of his tunic. Her fingers were far nimbler than his and, with a pause to remove his gold collar and belt, she rid him of the garment.

Her hands were warm against his chest, leaving trails of fire in their wake as she explored him. She touched the snake that curled around his bicep, a smile dancing over her lips.

He caught her hand and brought her wrist to his mouth, kissing the skin between the gold coiled there. “I am never without it,” he told her.

“Nor am I,” she replied, voice soft. “Or without this,” she added, indicated the necklace she still wore. The orb was a bright, vibrant red, the color of passion.

She surprised him then, taking him by the hips and turning them so he had his back to the bed. With a gentle push, she made him sit, then knelt to take his boots off. He watched her unbuckle the straps along his calf, struck by the incongruity of his regal Alfan princess on her knees. He had the urge to pull her up, toss her on the bed and make her swear to never kneel before him again. Not a monster like him.

His dark thoughts were interrupted by her tugging the first boot off, over balancing and ending up on her ass when it finally released his foot. She blinked a moment, then started to giggle. He felt himself grinning, for what felt like the first time in days. He reached down and took her hands, pulling her up and into his lap so he could kiss her again. Her legs wound around his waist and the kiss deepened, humor gone as need began to reassert itself.

He stroked a hand down her back, cupping her rear to pull her closer to him. She gasped as she settled against the hard length of his erection. His hand snaked around, cupped her hip, then moved between them, fingers stirring the thatch of dark curls that hid her core. He heard her catch her breath, waited for her to protest. When none came, he slowly slid his fingers down, down, down, until they found her sex, wet and hot. 

Syn shuddered, breaking their kiss to gasp for breath. He rested his forehead on hers, catching her gaze. Her eyes were wide, glazed with pleasure, the pupils dilated and black. He traced the edges of her swollen folds, watching her reaction, listening to her breath. He tested her entrance, breached it with one fingertip, then two. She moaned softly, squeezing her eyes shut at the intrusion. He pressed deeper, sinking his fingers into her heat. Her hips rocked, taking him as deep as he could go and he let out his own moan, imaging it was his cock instead of his fingers. He wanted to pin her to the mattress and take her, find some sort of solace in her body, wring some selfish pleasure out of the act. But he owed her more than that. Far more. If he couldn’t bring himself to tell her she was bedding a monster, the least he could do was ensure she thoroughly enjoyed the experience.

He twisted his wrist, pressing his thumb to the tight bundle of nerves hidden beneath the damp curls. Her nails dug into his shoulders and he smiled, bending to kiss her throat on the spot where her pulse pounded. He stroked her with his fingers and teased with his thumb, delighting in her eager responses. She clutched at him, whimpering, hip rocking against his hand. He could feel her grow hotter and slicker and knew she had to be close. His other arm tightened on her waist and pulled her forward so he could take her nipple in his mouth again. Syn gasped out his name, arching into him. He bit, just hard enough to hurt. And just like that she came, body clenching tight around his fingers. Her legs trembled against his hips and she rocked against him in little motions, milking the last bit of pleasure she could from him before sagging limply into his arms.

For a moment, he just enjoyed holding her, despite the fact he was harder than he’d ever been in his life. She was warm and soft against him, skin damp with sweat. He was drowning in her fresh, citrusy scent. Carefully, with every bit of self control he could muster, he turned and deposited her on the bed. She released him reluctantly as he sat back, giving him a slow, lazy smile that sent heat through him. He gave into temptation and used a pulse of magic to rid him of his remaining boot and breeches so that when he covered her with his body, there was nothing between them. She spread her thighs, welcomed him with open arms, fitting them together perfectly.

The head of his shaft slid along her folds, the friction causing them both to shudder. Her hands slid down his back until she gripped his hips. She lifted herself up to him and tugged, positioning him at her entrance. With that blatant encouragement, he rocked into her, first shallowly, then in one deep thrust that drove him to her core.

He stilled, braced on his elbows above her, reveling in how good it felt. She was wet, molten heat, still tight from her climax. Loki didn’t consider himself innocent by any means. There had been other women, courtesans content to settle for the younger son. He was not without his admirers. But sex before had always been a response to a biological need. He felt the urge, found a willing participant and indulged. It had been enjoyable for both parties, but not much more. He had never been stunned speechless by sensation. Never wanted someone so much he was on the brink of madness. He was lost in her, as he’d longed to be, and he had no desire to be found again.

Finally, he had the presence of mind to start moving and, incredibly, it felt even better. Syn’s hands roamed him, from his chest and shoulders, up into his hair. Her mouth found his and he groaned into her mouth, tongue spearing into her in a mirror of their bodies’ rhythm. He slid a hand beneath her hips and tilted her up, angling himself so he grazed her clit with his thrusts. He knew when he’d hit the right spot when she gasped his name, back arching. 

It was then he lost what was left of his self-control. He closed his eyes, pressed his face into her hair and let loose, pounding into her body. His hand on her hip tightened, fingers leaving their mark. Rather than protest she held him tighter, whispering nonsense, begging him for more. He was only dimly aware of her reaching a second climax, until the clench of her body around his was spurring on his own release.

He sank into her as deeply as possible, arms tight around her. He melted, boneless, onto her and she made no complaint, only held him as tight as he did her. Their hearts were pounding, both gasping for breath. She was still twitching lightly around his shaft with aftershocks of her orgasm. 

When he felt capable of movement, he eased himself out of her and shifted to the side, stretching out next to her. He took a moment to admire her in all her post coital glory, skin damp and flushed, hair a riot of waves and curls spread across his pillow. Her eyes were bright, expression dazed, before she closed them and flung an arm over her face, sighing. Her hips were marred with dark red marks that would soon be bruises. That sight caused the faintest twinge of guilt.

“I hurt you,” he murmured, touching the marks. She shivered at the contact and he reached to the foot of the bed and drew the covers over them.

She moved her arm from her eyes and touched his cheek with the back of her fingers. “You didn’t,” she assured him. “I’m quite well.”

The words mollified him and he relaxed a little. He closed his eyes and allowed himself the luxury of after glow, of laying next to her in the echoes of their pleasure.

Eventually, he felt her shift and the soft pressure of her palm on his jaw. “I’m sorry. About your father and brother,” she said softly.

He didn’t want to think about them, but the words caused everything to come crashing back. He fought back his anger, not wanting her to see. She had meant well. He could think of nothing to say that wouldn’t be a lie, so he simply reached out and drew her closer, pressing a kiss into her hair before settling her head on his shoulder. She endured the manhandling without comment, simply draping her arm over his chest, fingers fitting into the notches of his ribs. 

She was warm and supple against him, comforting even at rest, but his mind was racing, thoughts swirling and tumbling over themselves. He needed to plan, to decide his next steps. It was entirely possible that tomorrow would be worse than today and he needed to be ready -

Her fingers uncurled from his side and she slid her hand up to touch his temple. “Peace,” she murmured and he felt an odd pulse of warmth, like the touch of her magic. Immediately, his mind was soothed and he felt the first tendrils of sleep latch onto him. He pressed another kiss into her hair and let his eyes drift shut. He’d have to ask her the details of that little enchantment later.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made it by the end of the weekend!
> 
> A lot happens in this chapter, and I'm not entirely happy with the pacing. I was going for a sense of urgency, but may have landed in "rushed." I've done some tweaking and I think I'm as happy as I can be with it. It does start to answer the question so many of you have been asking "How does Syn change Loki's plans?"
> 
> My beta had some health problems last week so this chapter is unbetaed. She'll be back soon and I ask you all to bare with me until her glorious return.

Loki woke with the sun, feeling rested and clear headed. Syn was curled at his side, back to him, still sound asleep. He studied her a moment, skin warm and golden in the dawn light. He traced the line of her spine with a finger, a hairsbreadth from touching her. He didn’t want to wake her, not ready to face her questions, her green eyes that saw too much. Silently, carefully, he eased out of bed and walked to the washroom. In the shower he found pinpricks of pain on his shoulders and back, marks from Syn’s fingernails. He smiled to himself in feral pride at the memory of her wild in his lap, beneath him. His princess had claws. A suitable paramour for an unwanted prince, he supposed.

He froze halfway out of the shower. But he wasn’t a prince anymore, was he? Thor was banished. Odin was in a sleep and they had no idea when it would end. That made him the king of Asgard, didn’t it? And that. . . that meant he finally had the chance to prove himself. To prove he was as good as Thor. As worthy. He could make himself a hero, a legend. All he needed was some time. Time and a plan.

He glanced at the door leading to the bedroom, drying himself with a flicker of power. Syn would never approve. She would argue with him at every turn. Perhaps he could eventually turn her to his way of thinking, but the effort would cost him time he could ill afford. Which meant he needed to keep her out of his business for the time being.

By the realms, he didn’t want to do that. He wasn’t sure how he’d have gotten through the previous night without her. She had accepted him, even without fully understanding what was wrong.

_Because she still doesn’t know what you are._

The thought settled like a weight on his shoulders. He wanted to tell himself she would understand. She always seemed to surprise him, perhaps in this, too, she would defy convention. But, like so often seemed to happen recently, he wasn’t sure if that was just a lie he was telling himself. Jotun were monsters. The boogeyman in every bedtime story he’d heard while growing up. She had to have heard the same tales. 

Maybe - _maybe_ \- she would have accepted it earlier. Before he’d kissed her and touched her and bedded her. Before they’d left their marks on the other. If he told her now, how could she be anything but disgusted. With him and herself? He didn’t think he could bear to see her like that. To have her turn on him the way everyone else had. No, it was better to push her away now. Get her on the outside of the events to come. When it was all over, when he’d proven himself to his father and all of Asgard, then he would go to her again. Apologize, if needed. She would forgive him, once he’d explained his reasoning.

_“You never think of the consequences of your tricks, Loki. You have your clever idea and barrel ahead with no thought to who might be hurt along the way.”_

He shook the memory off, reaching for the door handle. This was the right answer, the best choice. She would see the truth of that in the end.

Syn was sitting up when he re-entered the bedroom, her hair a wild mess of curls. She gave him a sleepy smile when she saw him. “Good morning.”

A little of his resolve left him at the sight of her there, rumpled and drowsy. The orb on her necklace was a swirl of pink, white, and gold and seemed to radiate joy and contentment. He didn’t think she had ever looked more beautiful. For an instant, all he wanted was to crawl back into bed with her and forget the rest of the realms. He steeled himself and sat on the edge of the bed. “Good morning. You’re well?” Without conscious thought he lifted a hand and stroked her hair back from her face, carefully picking out a tangle with his fingers.

She leaned into his touch. “I’m well,” she said softly. “I’m absolutely perfect.”

_Yes, you are_ , he thought in an uncharacteristic moment of sentiment. He bent forward to kiss her, then dropped his hand so they were no longer in contact. “I afraid last night must remain an aberration.”

Her brow furrowed deeply. “What?”

“With Thor gone and my. . . father-” The word stuck in his throat, leaving a bad taste behind. “- incapacitated I am the reigning king of Asgard. Thanks to yesterday’s ill fated trip to Joutunheim a war is looming. I’m afraid I won’t have time to entertain you as well.”

She sat back a bit, holding his sheets to her chest protectively. “I understand it’s not the best time to start. . . a relationship. But we have been friends a long time. Surely -”

“My focus must be on the realm, nothing else. Tempting as you are,” he added, hoping it would mollify her.

The lines on her brow deepened and he knew she suspected he had ulterior motives. “It seems like that would be the worst time to shun an ally.”

His jaw tightened. “I don’t need allies. And if I did it would not be from a clingy, naive, princess with no stomach for power plays.”

She straightened, pulling herself upright and managing to look regal despite her unbrushed hair and state of undress. “So this is, what? A dismissal?”

He stood. “Good, you’ve caught on. Now. I have important matters to attend to so if you would.” He gestured to the door.

With far more dignity then should have been possible, given the circumstances, she swung her legs over the side of the bed. As she stood, the air around her shimmered gold, dressing her in the black gown she’d had on the night before. Even her hair was fixed, done in a dramatic upsweep. He couldn’t recall the last time she’d had her hair up in a proper style. The orb on her necklace was as black as her dress. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you,” she said, voice cool and clipped. “I could touch you and find out, but it’s not worth it. But I do know what’s true, and real. And that -” She pointed to the rumpled bed. “Was real.”

She strode to the door, brushing past him dismissively. “You know where to find me when you’ve come to your senses.” She yanked the heavy door open and left, slamming it behind her.

*

Loki’s first stop after dressing was to attempt to speak with his mother. She refused to leave Odin’s side and was, by all accounts, extremely distraught. He was in too foul a temper to speak with her reasonably, so he moved on. He could deal with her once some of his temper had cooled.

Sif and the Idiots Three served as an excellent outlet for his wrath. Even if he had been inclined to speak civilly, their looks of horror when they saw him on the throne would have soured it. Not a word of congratulations from his supposed friends. Only distrust and a plea to bring his brother home. Everything after that was simply vengeance for a lifetime of jests and barbs at his expense. Seeing them kneel before him was icing on the cake.

 After they stormed out, his first thought was to find Syn and tell her of his moment of triumph. Then their earlier conversation crashed back on him and he sank back onto the throne. She would forgive him later. He knew she would. She’d understand when it was all over.

His mother agreed to see him before supper, though only at Odin’s bedside. He embraced her when she reached for him, though it was difficult to look away from his father’s supine form. Visually, Odinsleep was no different then death.

“I know,” he said quietly, when his mother stepped back. He watched her walk around the bier and take a seat at her husband’s head. The look she gave him indicated she didn’t catch his meaning. “About me. That I’m. . . that he found me. That I’m not - not your son.”

A look of horror crossed her face. “Loki. You are my son. _Our_ son. You were from the moment he brought you home.”

The words did nothing to soothe his still raw emotions. He moved to the other side of the platform and sank into the chair, looking from her to Odin and back. He didn’t believe her. He wanted to. Wanted this lie, above all others, to seem real. But it wasn’t the truth. 

Saying as much would burden her and he was not so much a monster that he wanted to hurt her. So instead he said, “I never get used to seeing him like this.” Speaking of the sleep and what may come seemed safer. And it was knowledge he needed to finalize his plans. His mother’s - he couldn’t seem to stop thinking of her that way - worry was palpable and he tried to mirror it for her sake.

Asking about the lies came out of his mouth almost against his will. Frigga’s words were pretty, he thought she even believed them. (And it did occur to him that Syn could have told him for certain but he pushed the thought as far away as he could.) It was her hope that concerned him more. Odin awaking could be managed, as long as it was after Loki had done what he needed. Thor on the other hand. . . the lout could ruin everything, as he always did. He would need to ensure his brother gave up any hope of return. He was a surprise Loki couldn’t plan for. So he needed to be taken out of the equation.

He used his own portal to go to Midgard. For now, Heimdall was still useful, it wouldn’t do to tip his hand to the gatekeeper just yet. From there, it was just a matter of masking his form to slip past the mortals. 

Thor was already despairing. It was so easy to tip him over the edge with a few half truths and blatant lies. In the end, the poor fool even thanked him. Loki ignored the small, childish part of him that felt grief at saying goodbye to him. Trying to retrieve Mjolnir was an idle fancy. He’d try again after his plans were complete.

When he returned to Asgard it was dark, the palace quiet. He walked from the cellars to the main floor. He’d take the Bifrost to Jotunheim, as it could pass for a legitimate political voyage and he wanted to conserve his energy. As he passed down the empty halls he felt a flare of warmth in the band that still curled around his arm, indicating Syn was nearby. He stopped and glanced around, braced for a confrontation, but there was no sign of her, not even a flash of Alfan blue. Straightening his shoulders, he hurried on.

 The cold of Jotunheim bit into his hands and face, where his skin was exposed. He wondered idly what it felt like to the others, if it felt this cold to him. His. . . chat with Laufey went as well as expected. People were so predictable, even frost giants. Just find the right thread and pull until they follow exactly where you lead them. Hard to believe he shared blood with the gullible creature. Now all his pawns were in place. There was nothing left to do but sit back and enjoy the show until it was time to play his part.

*

Odd that he had never truly appreciated the view from the throne room before. Asgard and the Star Sea spread out before him, his own personal chess board. He wondered if this is what Odin felt when he looked over the realms. If he felt pride in the way he had shaped them. The same pride Loki hoped he would see aimed at him when this was all over.

In the distance, the Bifrost blazed and his stomach dropped. He knew he should have dealt with Heimdall’s suspicions more severely. He had no doubt those idiots were off to retrieve Thor. They would reveal his lies and all his careful planning would be in tatters. He whirled, striding back into the palace to start damage control.

And came face to face with Syn, standing in the middle of the throne room, arms crossed, waiting for him. “What in all the realms do you think you’re doing?” she asked, barely contained anger in her voice. He didn’t think he’d ever heard her sound like that before.

“I’m afraid I don’t have time-”

“Make time,” she growled, not budging an inch.

His eyes narrowed, studying her. This was an extremely convenient interruption. “Are you in league with them, then?” He found he wasn’t even surprised anymore. Everyone else had turned on him, why not her?

Her brow furrowed in confusion and she glanced past him, out the window. “Ah. No. Their machinations are their own. I’m concerned about you and what mad scheme you’re putting into place.”

If she was anyone else he wouldn’t have believed her. He ignored the warm sense of relief he felt knowing she hadn’t betrayed him and proceeded to try to bluff a woman who could see literally see lies. “I’m simply discharging my duties as king of Asgard.”

“Horseshit,” she said, stunning him into silence. “You’re up to something. You made a secret trip to Midgard, which meant you didn’t want Heimdall to know of it. Thor didn’t come back with you, or the warriors wouldn’t be sneaking around on their own. Then you went to Jotunheim publicly. What was that? Parley? Laufey has no reason to respect you anymore then he did Thor. So what was it? An alliance? A deal?”

By the realms, he wasn’t used to having anyone actually pay attention to what he was doing, let alone piece together what it meant. “Syn, the details of my political-”

She took a step forward. “Tell me what you’re up to, Loki. Or I will raise up an army against you and the Jotuns will be the _least_ of your problems.”

“You would threaten your king?” he asked through his teeth.

Her smile was brittle. “I’m a princess of Alfheim. You’re not my king.”

Damn, but she was beautiful when she fought him. Dangerous, too. “Guards!” He hated to involve others, but he still needed to deal with his brother’s friends.

The doors open and two guards entered, striding towards them. Syn glanced back at them and waved a hand, causing them to disappear in a flare of gold. The doors promptly slammed shut again and she looked back to Loki. “I am the third most powerful sorcerer in this realm, shadowed only by you and your mother. I am not stupid. Tell me. What. You’re up to.”

For a few heartbeats they stood there glaring at each other, air heavy with tension. He briefly considered fighting her. Sending her down to the dungeons and out of his way. He’d removed all the other troublesome pieces from the board, why not her? But apparently, hurting her was farther then even he could go. “Fine. You’re right. I did make a deal with Laufey. He’s to bring his warriors here and slaughter Odin in his sleep. I, of course, will stop him, then aim the Bifrost at Jotunheim and leave it open, destroying the realm. Thereby ending our war with the monsters and cementing myself as a hero of Asgard.”

Syn stared at him and he could see some of the fight go out of her. He thought, perhaps, she’d seen the wisdom of his plans. That she understood why he needed to do this. Finally, she spoke, “Did saying it out loud make you realize how stupid that is or should I go through it for you?”

His jaw tightened. “I would watch my words, if I were you.”

“That’s insane, Loki! Leaving aside using your own father as bait, you can’t destroy an entire realm just to make yourself look good.”

“The royals of Asgard have made it their purpose to ensure the safety of the realms. The Jotuns-”

“Are a threat to no one. Odin all but decimated them a millennia ago. They’d barely left their barren realm until you and your brother stirred the hornet’s nest. You can’t do this. It’s genocide!”

“They’re monsters,” he replied, willing her to see reason.

“They’re living creatures.” She reached out to touch his arm. “I know it’s been hard for you, living in Thor’s shadow. You saw this as an opportunity to prove yourself. I understand; being a second child in a royal family is a special kind of torment. But this is not the answer, Loki. This is a line you can’t cross.”

He shook her hand off. “You have no idea what it’s like for me. No idea.” He strode away from her, hand fisting on his staff.

She followed him, of course she followed him. “Then explain to me. Make me understand how you can possibly think this is an acceptable answer. Justify the destruction of an entire race to feed your ego.”

“They’re monsters,” he roared, turning on her. “And so am I.” With a gesture the casket was in his hand. Its magic flared to life and his skin began to harden and change, filling him with disgust.

Syn lifted a hand, shielding her eyes from the bright glow of the cube. When it faded, leaving his skin blue and lined, she lowered her arm and stared. “What-?”

“I’m Jotun.” The words stuck in his throat, hung in the air once he managed to get them out. “A war prize, taken with the hope of future use. I’m not the second son. I’m not an heir.” He sent the casket back to its resting place in the vaults. “This is all that I am. I’m a monster.”

She considered him a moment. He had expected disgust at his true form, but that wasn’t what he saw in her face. He had no name for what he did see there. Curiosity, perhaps. He might have called it acceptance, but that was impossible.

Finally, she shook her head. “You’re an idiot,” she said gently. “Do you have any idea how true sight works? I see _you_. No glamours, no illusions. The real and true you. And this -” She gestured up and down, indicating his current state. “Is not what I see.” She reached out and took his hand, wincing faintly at the cold.

 The warmth of her touch spread up his arm, changing the Jotun skin back to its normal hue. In a few instants he was back to normal. Physically, at least. Inside, he was reeling.

She pressed her other hand against his cheek. “This is what I see, so this is who you are. In your heart you are a prince of Asgard and always have been. Where you were born doesn’t matter.” She squeezed his hand. “You’re only a monster if you choose to be one,” she added softly.

For the second time in as many days, Loki’s world shattered. 

What she said was the truth, it had to be. She couldn’t lie. He hadn’t even thought of her sight. Of her father’s and brothers’. They’d all met him throughout his life and none had ever stopped and called him out as different. Which meant. . . which meant. . .

He was his parent’s son. As much as Thor. Different, yes. But he’d been different before he know his true lineage and he had never thought to destroy realms for it. Those were the actions of a monster. A mindless thing.

He was not a monster.

His legs gave out and Syn crouched, still holding his hand, as he sank to the ground. She was mercifully silent, letting him think. For the first time, he noticed she wasn’t wearing her Alfan blue, but a gown of rich emerald and deep black. A mirror of his own armor. She’d come to fight him, but wore his colors.

With shaking fingers he reached out and touched the fabric, making her smile. “I’m on your side,” she told him. “Even when you’re being an idiot.”

He blew out a breath. His world was still crooked. Pieces didn’t fit and while he had a better idea of who he was, he was still fractured. But, perhaps, with one sure thing in his life he could make the rest of it fit. And she certainly seemed willing to be that rock solid foundation. “What do I do?” he asked softly.

“You need to fix this. _We_ need to fix it.” He nodded slowly and she continued, “I think the first step is to get Thor up here.”

It was difficult, meeting her eyes, but he forced himself to look up. “I told him Father was dead and he was banished forever. That’s why I went to Midgard.”

Very slowly, she closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose with the hand not holding his. She took several deep breaths before saying, “You’re going to have a great deal of apologizing to do when this was over.”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“I wouldn’t include that in the apologies.” She released her nose and looked at him. “Well, if Sif and the others are down there I’m sure they’ve told him the truth and are bringing him home.”

Loki shook his head slowly. “It does us no good, though. He’s stripped of his powers. He’ll be of little use in fighting the Jotuns.” This was good. Solving problems gave him something to focus on.

“All right,” she said slowly. “How does he get his powers back?”

He tipped his head back, looking up at the grand ceiling. “Well, he was sent down there for being vain and selfish so I imagine some sort of act of sacrifice or altruism. . .” He let the words trail off, suddenly struck with a thought.

“What?” she asked when he didn’t continue.

“I have an idea.” He stood and hauled her to her feet. “Come with me.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter of Part II. Sorry for the minor cliffhanger, I'll get the next part up soon as I can.
> 
> My beta is back! All hail SweetTea.
> 
> And now for a little announcement. Last chapter, freaking_intelligent_fangirl and I were lamenting the obvious lack of Loki/Syn fanart. My writing partner, OlivesAwl, who is amazing and multi-talented, decided to fix that for me. All the Dark Inside stories now have banners posted on the 1st Chapter. Go and look at them. There's also one for the series as a whole on the series page, where my new avatar pic comes from. They're awesome and I adore them and cannot thank her enough.

“This is a terrible plan,” Syn whispered from behind him. She was clutching a fistful of his cape, watching the Destroyer step out of its cage.

“I didn’t hear you coming up with anything better,” he retorted before addressing the metal creature. “Ensure my brother regains his powers. Destroy whatever you must.” Syn cleared her throat and tugged on his cape. He sighed and added. “Don’t kill anyone.”

They stepped aside so the Destroyer could walk into the portal they’d created. “Now what?” Syn asked as the portal flickered and closed.

“You’ve true sight. Can you use a seer’s flame?”

“Of course.” She sounded vaguely insulted he’d asked. “Why?”

He started walking again, listening to her light steps as she caught up. “There’s a seer’s flame in the anteroom beside the throne room. We’ll need it to watch the Destroyer’s progress.”

“Aren’t you controlling it?”

“Only its basic functions. I want to watch to make sure we can adjust for any surprises. Thor’s friends are down there, too; they could ruin everything.”

She walked next to him as they strode out of the vaults back to the throne room. “They’re your friends, too.”

He glanced down at her. “No. Not really. They turned suspicious of me quite swiftly once Thor was gone. I suppose not entirely without reason, but . . .” He shrugged. “You’re the only one foolish enough to actually call me friend.”

She flashed him a wide smile. “Idiot that I am.”

The seer’s flame in the king’s anteroom was huge. The brazier took up an entire corner of the room. Loki imagined one could roast an entire horse on the flame, were that not an idiotic use of the thing. Syn eyed it with something between dismay and fear. “What is it?” he asked. “Can’t you use it?”

Her shoulders straightened and she walked to it. “Of course I can use it,” she muttered. “It’s just. . . bigger than the one I usually have.” After eyeing the flame another moment, she took a deep breath and shoved her hands into the base of the fire. 

Watching someone use a seer’s flame was very disconcerting. Loki hadn’t wielded one in ages; he had no talent for such things. He recalled it being warm, but not uncomfortably so. From the outside, however, it looked like the wielder’s hands should be utterly consumed in fire.

It took Syn a moment to tame the flames, but soon it evened out and an image appeared in the center of the blaze. It showed a dusty road running up the middle of a small desert town. The Destroyer was slowly walking up the middle of the road, sending blasts of fire into the surrounding buildings. Syn tossed a glance at Loki in reaction to the wreckage.

“They’re empty,” he said defensively. “It has to look like a proper attack.”

They watched the warriors face the Destroyer while Thor hung back. He was dressed as a Midgardian, though his size still set him apart from the mortals. The fact that he was standing back and aiding the humans’ evacuation was impressive in and of itself. Perhaps this did have a chance of working.

Sif did an admirable job with the metal monster, even Loki had to concede that. He exerted what control he could to slow the Destroyer’s movements, giving her plenty of time to avoid the blast. After that, it was a careful ballet of keeping up the carnage without actually hitting anything. Finally, Thor stepped in, sending the warriors away. Loki went to stand directly behind Syn, watching intently as his brother walked to the center of the road, facing down the Destroyer. He held the metal creature back from attacking him, hand clenched on his staff.

His throat tightened at Thor’s words of apology. The big oaf didn’t even know what he was apologizing for, but the fact he thought to do it at all. . . that meant a great deal.

Syn looked over her shoulder at him, sympathy in her eyes. He was suddenly immensely glad she was here with him. That she had managed to talk sense into him. Who knew what might have happened to him otherwise?

Thor’s voice echoed from the flames. “So take mine. And end this.”

Loki closed his eyes briefly, then looked at Syn. “I have to,” he said softly.

She nodded. “I know,” she replied, just as soft. “Just. . . carefully.”

He closed his eyes again, forcing the Destroyer to bank its fire. Then he hauled its hand back and sent his brother flying down the street.

He saw Syn flinch, even as his brother’s mortal woman ran to his side. The Destroyer walked away as Thor said his last words to the Midgardian. Syn’s hands shook as Thor’s eyes closed and the other woman began to cry in earnest. Loki touched her back, watching the flame intently. “Come on,” he muttered. “You stupid hammer. That’s the most selfless thing he’s ever attempted. What more does it take?”

Dimly, they could hear the clank of the Destroyer’s steps, ticking off seconds while Thor lay there limply with his woman crying over him. Syn glanced over her shoulder. “Loki. . .”

“Just wait,” he gritted out. This had to work. He had not just killed his brother _accidentally_. 

He was about to turn away in disgust when a roll of thunder rumbled out of the flame’s image. Syn gave a little laughing gasp as Mjolnir flew into view, right into Thor’s hand. They both turned away as a flare of bright light filled their view. Syn lost control of the flame and had to snatch her hands out before it actually burned her. It didn’t matter. Clearly, his brother was going to be just fine.

Syn whirled and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him. He caught her weight with a surprised laugh, clutching her tight a moment. “Well, that’s step one down,” he muttered into her hair.

“Yes.” She leaned back to look at him. “What next?”

He tipped his head back, thinking. “Thor and the others will be home as soon as they can return to the Bifrost site. Hopefully I’ll have time to explain myself before the Jotuns arrive.”

“I’ll help,” she promised. “They’ll have to believe me, right?”

That made him smile. “It will certainly help.” 

They looked at each other a moment and it seemed to him the air changed, grew heavier. He was just about to dip his head and steal a kiss when the palace seemed to shudder with an earthquake.

Syn glanced down, then arched a brow at him. “Jotuns?”

“Almost certainly. I suppose explanations and apologies will have to wait.”

With a determined nod, she stepped back. “Go protect Odin. I’ll rally the guard. With luck, the worst of the fight will be over before Thor gets here.”

He hated the idea of separating from her with enemies in the palace, but her plan made sense. “Be careful,” he told her, heading for one door.

“You first,” she called back, running for the throne room.

*

Loki had to admit, despite all the changes to his original plan, slaughtering Laufey before he could lay a finger on Odin was an immensely satisfying experience. The praise and embrace from his mother was an unexpected but delightful bonus. For a moment he had a glimpse of the sort of pride he’d hope to achieve with this entire plot.

Then Thor arrived. Rarely had Loki seen Thor so furious. First Syn, now his brother; it was Loki’s day to anger his more amiable natured companions. 

“Why don’t you tell her? How you sent the Destroyer to kill our friends. To kill me?”

Loki raised his free hand in a placating gesture. “Now, I can explain that. My intent was not to kill you but to aid you in earning Mjolnir again.”

“You’re a talented liar, brother, always have been.”

Any other time he’d be flattered. “I agree, but this time, I’m telling the truth. Why do you think the monstrosity punched you rather than wielding the fire?” Thor paused in his circling, eyes narrowed. “My intent was to harm, not kill. You needed to be worthy of the hammer again. I simply. . . gave you an avenue of worthiness.”

Thor seemed to be mulling that over. Loki wasn’t sure they had time for him to sort it out entirely, but for now he’d give him leeway. “I have to think there was a less volatile method.”

“Likely so, but I was pressed for time. Subtlety wasn’t an option.”

“And what of your lies about Father’s death?”

“Loki!” Frigga scolded.

Oh, he was starting to wish he’d just killed everyone as he’d originally intended. Though, in retrospect, Syn might have a point about it sounding mad when explained. Time to start that apologizing. “A mistake,” he said, striving for sincerity. “I was angry and not only at you.” He glanced at Odin’s sleeping form. His mother’s expression changed from shock to shame. “I will be happy to have it out with you properly later, but for now, our home is under attack.”

Whatever Thor might have said to that was interrupted by running footsteps in the hallway and the appearance of Syn in the doorway. She’d changed into a tunic and breeches as she’d worn on their adventure in the forest, her bow in her hand. “Jotuns are on the bridge, trying to take the Bifrost. Heimdall is overrun,” she managed to get out as she caught her breath. She glanced at Loki and tilted her head. “The helmet? Really?”

“It’s a battle,” he said defensively. “And I told you to be careful.”

She lifted the bow. “Archers fight at a distance. I’m fine.”

“Where are the other warriors?” Thor asked her. 

“Defending the Great Hall. We thought that was the main force but I think they’re the distraction for the ones at the Bifrost.”

Loki looked to his brother. “Shall we put our differences aside for one more battle?”

Thor actually gave a little smile at that. “With you, Loki, there’s always one more battle. Come on.”

They both headed for the door. Loki stopped in front of Syn. “Please attempt to be careful; I believe you’ll be rather integral to my defense later.”

She smiled, nose crinkling. “I promise.”

“Good.” Then, despite his mother and brother looking on, he caught her by the back of the neck and stole that kiss he’d been denied earlier. He kept it fast, but deep and urgent, with the promise of more later. She blinked rapidly when he released her and he strode down the hallway before she could recover.

Thor seemed willing to ignore his anger to give him a look that could only be described as amused incredulity. “I see you have been busy in my absence.”

Loki glanced at him, fighting a smug smirk. “Oh, shut up.”

*

The bridge was, indeed, overrun with Jotuns. Thor leapt forward without a hesitation, though with less glee than he usually expressed for battle. Loki struck the closest giant with the end of his spear, sending it flying, before blasting another with energy. Moving in sync with his brother, they made their way through the Jotuns, towards the Bifrost gate.

“What was your plan?” Thor asked after a few minutes of battle. “With me, with the Jotuns?”

Loki ducked a blow and kicked out, sending his opponent to the ground. “Really? You wish to discuss it now?”

“You have a better topic of conversation?” Mjolnir went flying, knocking back several Jotun before returning to Thor’s hand.

Loki sighed. “I was going to save Father’s life and destroy Jotunheim, thereby proving myself a worthy son.” He paused, sending a handful of daggers over his brother’s shoulder to fell the frost giant behind him.

Thor glanced back at the fallen enemy, then back at Loki. “You would have killed an entire race?”

“I believe so, yes.” He still felt a bit off, as if waiting for the world to tip him off again. But the farther Loki got from his scheme the clearer he could see it for its madness. “I suppose now I don’t have to find out.” He slammed his spear into the stomach of a Jotun and it toppled back, into the void beneath the bridge. 

“Was it Syn who changed your mind?” Thor asked from beneath three opponents.

“How did you guess?” He blasted one of the giants Thor was fighting and his brother was able to take care of the other two. “I wouldn’t mock, if I were you, brother. I’m not the only one changed with the help of a woman these days.”

Thor actually looked a little embarrassed. “That’s different.”

“Indeed. I’ve known mine more than a year. How long were you on Midgard? Two days? Three?” The bridge was mostly clear and he started towards the Bifrost gate, walking backwards to talk to Thor.

“All I did was promise to return to her. I didn’t kiss her in front of Mother. You know she’ll be planning your betrothal now.”

Loki marveled a bit at how easily they had fallen back into their brotherly banter. He had betrayed Thor as thoroughly as he knew how. Lied to him. Sent the Destroyer on him - which could have killed him, good intentions or no. And now they were joking and teasing again, brothers, as always. It gave him a faint sliver of hope that, perhaps, Syn was not the only one on his side. “Well, a wedding will be a excellent pick-me-up after my trial for treason and attempted genocide.”

Thor stopped walking and regarded him with a look that was almost sad. “Why did you do it, Loki? If you wanted the throne that badly. . . surely you could have come to me. We could have spoken to Father together.”

He felt tired then, the emotional upheaval of the last few days crashing down on him. Lies came easily to him, but for once he simply told the truth. “I never wanted the throne. I only ever wanted to be your equal.”

The words seemed to take all the fight out of his brother. He took a step forward, then his face changed and he raised the hammer. “Loki!”

For a split second he thought Thor might be about to attack him. Then sense came to him and he began to turn to face whatever was coming from behind. That instant of confusion cost him dearly, though. The Jotun slammed into him with all its weight, sending him flying. His spear fell from his hand, clattering on the bridge. Loki grappled with the frost giant, hissing when its skin touched his. He saw Thor racing towards him and told himself all he needed to do was hold on until his brother reached him. Then the Jotun gave a roar and slammed an elbow into his chin and a shoulder into his chest. He staggered back and his foot met nothing but air.

Thor struck the Jotun with Mjolnir, sending it flying past Loki and into the void. It caught at Loki’s cape, pulling him further off balance. He flung his hand out to Thor, felt the barest brush of his brother’s callused fingers, then he was falling into the blackness. He heard Thor scream his name from somewhere high above him. Then there was nothing but the black.

*

Two nights later a feast was held in the Great Hall. It was lively, and well attended, though no one seemed to know exactly what mood should be struck. Were they celebrating a battle well fought? Mourning their lost prince? Rejoicing at Odin’s awakening? Or welcoming their other prince home? It was all a muddle and even Frigga, normally so calm and self assured, felt a bit adrift.

She watched from a distance, speaking with those who came to her. After talking with Sif, she found herself wandering away from the Hall, down to the library, to search for one who was missing from the revelries.

Syn had been with her when Thor had returned from the bridge. The girl had fought well, perched on a balcony with her bow, picking off Jotuns. Many had fallen from an arrow to the eye or throat. Others had been distracted or wounded at a crucial moment, allowing a warrior to fell them. Alfan women were not known for their fighting skills and to the best of Frigga’s knowledge, their gentlewomen were rarely trained in weaponry. It didn’t surprise her that the princess defied convention. Who else but a contradiction could catch Loki’s eye?

By the time Thor had reached them, they had routed the small force of Jotuns in the hall and celebrating had begun. Syn had hugged her like a daughter and for the first time in days, Frigga had had hope, for her kingdom and her family. Then she’d seen her eldest son approaching and knew from the expression on his face that Loki had fallen.

He told them what had happened in a broken, halting voice, hailing his brother as a hero. Frigga had reached for his hands, seeking to comfort and be comforted, and behind her she’d heard the clatter of Syn’s bow striking the floor. The girl had looked crushed, the grief on her face equal to Frigga’s own. But when she had reached for her, trying to draw her into an embrace, the Alfan had flinched away. Others had joined them, Thor’s friends and fellow warriors. They had met the news of Loki’s death far more ambivalently and she and Thor had been distracted trying to explain Loki’s actions and eventual redemption. When she had managed to break away from the group, Syn had been gone.

Now, however, she was easy to find. Frigga spotted her immediately after entering the library, perched among the stacks, reading a heavy, cloth bound book. Evidently, it did not hold the knowledge she was seeking, for she shoved it back onto a shelf and climbed higher on the ladder, muttering to herself. The Alfan princess had spent every waking moment since the battle in the library. It was as bad or worse than any obsessive search Loki had ever had. Frigga could barely get the girl to eat, let alone leave the books for a rest or breath of fresh air.

“You’re missing the feast,” Frigga said quietly, taking a position at the base of the ladder.

Syn glanced down at her, looking surprised, as if she’d been unaware of her presence. “I have no appetite,” she replied, before turning back to the books, pulling two off the shelf before her.

“We are about to adjourn to the cliffs, to watch the boat launch.” They would send an empty boat into the sea for Loki, with no body to recover. Her heart hung heavy with the knowledge her son was lost. And with so many things left unsaid. “I had hoped you would be there,” she continued, watching Syn climb down the ladder. “Perhaps light the first arrow.”

The Alfan landed on the floor beside her, feet light on the polished wood floor. “Where I’m from we don’t mourn those not dead,” she said, not even looking at Frigga as she went to put her books on the long wood table that took up so much of the room.

Frigga sighed. “Syn. I know you have hope -”

“Hope implies faith in something unknown. He’s alive. I know he is. I just have to find him.”

“No one has ever returned from the void,” Frigga said gently.

Syn looked up at her, green eyes bright and a little wild. “Well. He’ll be pleased to be the first.”

She reached for her books again and Frigga caught her arm. “I know you mourn him,” she said quietly, voice firm. “And this gives you a purpose. But this castle is full of those who mourn him. Not least of all me. And they do not have the luxury of your belief. If you love him as I feel you do, you will do right by his friends and family and show him the respect in death he deserves.”

For an instant, Syn’s face crumpled, full of such loss and despair that Frigga’s heart ached for her. Then she collected herself, schooling her features into neutrality. She shook off Frigga’s hand and sighed, dusty clothes shimmering and changing into a black and green gown and matching cloak, suitable for mourning.

“Of course, your majesty,” the princess said in a calm, neutral voice. “It would be my honor to light the blaze,” she added, bow appearing in her hand.

Frigga knew it was an act. A good face put over deep pain. But she could appreciate the effort it took and nodded, leading the girl out of the room.  
 The revelers donned cloaks and a more somber mood, walking out to the cliff side with their lanterns. When all were assembled, the boat was launched, empty save for a single lantern. They watched in silence as it floated slowly towards the edge of the sea. Halfway out Syn raised her bow, conjuring a flaming arrow from the air. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears, but she kept a tight leash on her reactions. 

Her lips moved almost silently before she let the arrow fly. It arced through the air before striking the boat solidly, setting it aflame. Other arrows followed it, encouraging the conflagration. Any who looked on would have assumed she had mouthed a prayer, perhaps some old Alfan custom she had tucked in amongst the Asgardian ritual.

But Frigga had been by the girl’s side, had watched her every motion, and had heard her words quite clearly. They had not been a prayer, not the way most thought of prayer, anyway.  
 They had been a promise.

“I will find you.”

* * *

End Part 2


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 begins!
> 
> The voice/tone of this section is a little different than the previous two. When I was planning out the story I sort of mentally assigned each part a genre. Part one was a romance, part two was retelling the movie (so, action? I guess?), and part three was fantasy/fairy tale. My beta, the lovely and talented SweetTea, liked the change, so hopefully the rest of you will, too. If not, we get back to more action/adventure in Part 4.
> 
> Woven will post regularly on Sundays for the foreseeable future. I'll likely take a brief hiatus at the end of Part 3, depending on how healthy my buffer is.
> 
> For those on Tumblr and interested in the inner working of my mind, i've dusted off my old account to use as a fanfic information site. It'll have metas, behind the scenes things, ramblings, and possibly sneak peeks and polls. You're also welcome to send me asks there. I do reblog some fandom stuff, mostly MCU, but some TV stuff as well. You can follow me at http://nyxetoile.tumblr.com if inclined.

Deep in the palace of Asgard, tucked among the parlors and halls, is the library. It is a grand, though rarely seen, room. Rivaling the armory in size, its shelves stretch up to the ceiling and line every wall. It is said that all the knowledge in the realms can be found somewhere in the volumes stored there.

Near the door, on the south wall, is a small section of fiction. Guests of the palace are welcome to browse when in need of a romance or mystery to entertain them. Next to the fiction is a few shelves of mythology and folklore. That section is a bit smaller than one might expect, as the Asgardian definition of mythology is a bit narrower than the norm.

The rest of the south wall contains the history section. The books here stretch back to the beginning of Asgard and beyond. Some of the books are uncut, never read, or even opened. Others are written in long forgotten languages, their words now lost to the ages. Still others are so old that the ink has faded and blurred, so that the pages look blank and unused, as if the book was brand new, instead of very, very old. (Dissertations of the cyclical nature of life, mortality and the inevitability of being forgotten can be found in the East annex, under philosophy. Not the section with the highest traffic, given the interests of the average Asgardian.)

But the largest section, by far, is the books on magic.

Some might find it strange for a realm with so little natural magic in it to have such a collection. Asgardians use magical objects and weapons, but rarely wield it naturally. The gift runs strongly in the realms of Vanaheim and Alfheim. Even the Jotuns have a certain kind of wild magic linked with their ice. But for reasons unknown, Asgardians are rarely touched by the power. Perhaps it is because they are so poor in the gift that they chose to learn as much as they can about it.

Or, it could be that her majesty, Queen Frigga, has been the curator of the library for several millennia and she has a great interest in the many uses of magic. She has sought out volumes from all the realms, covering every kind of magic known. From simple illusion and conjuring, to the darker methods rarely spoken of in polite company. 

Among these books a girl has been searching for something. (Girl is perhaps the wrong word. She would be the first to insist that she is well of age and a woman by any meaningful definition. But she is young for her race and often surrounded by those who would remind her of her place.) She has been in this library day in and day out for over six months now. She is not searching for a book, not precisely, though she hopes the path to what she seeks will be found there. No, she is searching, with all of her strength, for a man. He is a friend and a lover, though only just. He has been missing this half year, thought dead by almost everyone else. His friends and family have mourned him, come to terms to with his loss. Most have moved on.

Not her.

She know he lives. She searches for him tirelessly, ignoring all those who would tell her to stop. Her parents despair at her obsession. Her mentor, the mother of the missing man, waivers between sharing her hope and encouraging her to start her life again. But the girl refuses. If she doesn’t search for him. If she doesn’t find a way to bring him back, who will? She feels alone in her quest, alone in her firm belief that he is still alive, hoping to be found.

She is wrong.

*

Thor didn’t spend much time in the library. He was not stupid; at least, he didn’t think he was. He had just never had much luck in learning from books. Bare words on a page never reached him the way they were supposed to. From a young age, he had always preferred learning he could see and touch and witness. His best tutors had realized this, and used toy soldiers and rocks and sticks to map out the historical battles he’d otherwise been confused by. Another had learned to draw pictures to go along with whatever lesson he was learning.

Loki, of all people, had explained it best. They’d been youths and he had just started his magical training with their mother. He’d pointed out there were all manners of magic. Some was instinctive, some required words or runes and others required magical objects to focus it. Loki had suggested knowledge was the same. While he had a facility with one kind of learning, Thor’s talents lay in a different kind. It had been a comparison that settled some of Thor’s long held insecurities on the matter.

Still, he did, on occasion, venture into the library, searching for a book or, more often, a brother. That was futile now, a thought which caused a pang as he slipped through the heavy gold doors. He wondered darkly if he would never again find Loki perched among the stacks.

 There was a black clad figure at the grand table, however. Princess Syn the Truthful, of Alfheim, had spent the last six months working tirelessly for a way to retrieve Loki from the void. Thor had only the vaguest idea of what her relationship with Loki had been before his fall. They had obviously been friends a long time. And the kiss they had shared before separating in the battle had indicated it was less than platonic. But whether any promises had been made between them remained a mystery. Obviously, her affection ran deep, given the devotion she had given her quest.

She looked half asleep, bent over an oversized book with thick, vellum pages. He cleared his throat as he came closer and she jumped a little, looking up. He was surprised at the smile that crossed her face. “Thor, what a coincidence. I was about to come find you.”

He slid into a chair across from her. “Really?”

Her fingers spread across the book, smoothing the pages. “I’ve found him,” she said softly. “And I know how to get to him.”

Everything seemed to freeze for a moment. He’d known that’s what she’d been searching for here, but he had honestly never thought she would succeed. “How?”

“He’s in world between the realms, somewhere the Bifrost doesn’t reach. But there are other means of travel.” She rubbed a hand over her face, then smoothed down her hair. “Loki was actually looking into such methods before -” She stopped and looked down. “I was able to use some of his notes, but the last two months have been spent looking for a reliable means of transport. I have it now. I can get there and bring him back.”

Thor reached across the table to touch her hand where it lay on the book. “No, you won’t. Not alone anyway.”

*

“You’re not going anywhere,” Odin declared after Thor finished telling him of Syn’s discovery.

Thor grit his teeth, not daring to look at Syn beside him. “I trust Syn when she says she can do this. Why would you forbid it?”

“The lands between the realms are dark, dangerous places. I’ll not have my only remaining heir or the daughter of a dear friend traveling there on a fool’s errand.”

“If you let us go, he won’t be your only heir,” Syn said quietly, before Thor could form a response.

Odin whirled on her. “I have indulged you for too long. I should have sent you back home long ago. I can rectify that at any time.”

“Yes, I’m sure my family has been clamoring for my return.” Her dry tone was so like Loki’s Thor could almost forget who he was listening to.

“Father, if it means Loki’s return, what harm is there in trying?” he asked before Syn could provoke Odin further.

“Your brother is dead. Lost to the void.” Odin turned away from them. “I will hear no more of this plan to go after his ghost.”

Thor reached for Syn’s arm to draw her away, but she didn’t budge. “I can’t help but think that, were it Thor, you would be scouring the realms and all the worlds between to look for him.”

The Allfather turned back to them. “I would watch your tone, Syn of Alfheim. I am your king.”

A brittle smile crossed her face. “Odd, he said almost the exact same thing to me.”

She and Odin glared at each other, until Thor managed to draw her away.

*

He remembered a time before the pain. Before the chains and the venom. He’d had a name. Friends. Family. Power. He’d been someone important. He’d been someone.

He had forgotten most of it. The memories were there, buried under the agony, just out of reach. Flickers came to him, now and then. A sea of stars, a blade of ice. Green eyes and a warm smile. Soft skin beneath his hands.

She came to him the most often. The woman with green eyes. Sometimes he thought he might even know her name, but then the idea faded again, with the next drop of venom. She must have been important, that woman.

Sometimes he dreamed of her, if you could call his gaps of unconsciousness sleeping. In his dreams, she was with him. Not chained to the rock, not in pain. Just with him. Speaking softly, touching him. Reassuring him.

She promised to find him.

In his dreams, he believed her. But when he woke, he knew it to be a lie.

*

“Thor, you can’t be thinking to go with her.”

He ignored Sif’s plea, pacing the length of the parlor he shared with his friends.

Fandral tried next. “She’s an untested sorcerer. I know she’s been studying with your mother, and I’m sure she’s powerful. But the fact remains, she’s never done this before.”

“I’m not asking any of you to come,” he said quietly.

“But you intend to go.” Sif’s words were likely not meant to be a question, but he replied anyway.

“She says she can reach Loki. If there is a chance to bring my brother home, I must try.”

“Your father has forbidden it.” That was Hogun, straight to the point, as always.

“I know that he has.”

“Are you _trying_ to get banished again?” Sif asked in exasperation.

“I’m trying to get my brother back,” he replied with a calm he didn’t really feel.

“Your brother who tried to kill you.”

Thor waved the comment away. After the battle with the Jotuns, he had had a long talk with Syn about Loki and his actions. While it would have been easier on everyone if Loki had been honest with him, Thor could sympathize with his brother. His world had fallen apart in a matter of hours and he’d had no one he felt he could confide in. Thor shuddered to think what might have happened had Syn been unable to reach Loki in time. “A misunderstanding,” was all he said. He had tried to explain the situation to his friends, with varying degrees of success. Mostly, they seemed to be stuck on the fact Loki was a Jotun. Which, admittedly, was a bit of a shock.

Sif and the others were still watching him with varying levels of concern. He sighed and faced them. “I know none of you were as close to him as I was. He is not your kin. I am not asking you to come. It will be dangerous. And, you’re right, there is no guarantee of return. But Loki is my brother. He always will be. I will risk my life to save him. There is nothing any of you can say that will change my mind.” With that, he sketched them a polite bow and took his leave.

He found Syn in her room, readying for the journey. She looked nothing like the sheltered princess she’d been when she’d arrived in Asgard. Gone were the corseted gowns and full skirts. Now she was dressed in leather and scale armor, oddly reminiscent of Loki’s, in green, black, and gold. He wondered where she had had it made and when. Or, had she learned the trick of creating such things out of the air, like his mother did on occasion? What else had she discovered in her quest for Loki?

She looked up at his entrance and offered a weak, nervous smile. “I’m debating bringing my bow or not. We should pack lightly, and I do have some tricks that would be useful in combat. But I should conserve my magic as much as possible.”

“The others aren’t coming,” he said, not bothering to cushion the bad news. “It will be us alone.” 

What little smile she’d had faded then, shoulders bowing. Without a word, she held out a hand and her bow materialized in it, along with a quiver. He had some misgivings about bringing her into danger. She was worse than even a green, untried warrior. To the best of his knowledge, she had no training with combat, other than the use of her bow. Several guardsmen, as well as his mother, had told him how well she handled herself in the the battle with the Jotuns, which gave him some hope. But perched high and picking off chosen targets was different from close quarters battle. It was possible she would panic and freeze, becoming a liability. She was almost certainly a liability, anyway.

Well, if he had his choice, he’d be going wherever they were headed with half a legion of soldiers, plus a Destroyer. He could hardly afford to be choosy with what he was getting. “Tonight?” he asked.

She gave a quick nod. “Right now your father thinks we’re discouraged and licking our wounds. I’d like to be gone before he figures out the truth.”

He probably didn’t want to know how she knew that. “Have you found somewhere to depart from?”

Another nod. “There’s a storage area, in the basements, near the vaults. Loki used it for a similar purpose, once. It’s rarely used and I can put up an enchantment to make it even easier to ignore. It’s the best spot, short of leaving the palace.”

“The guard does a shift change at two. It goes fairly smooth, but it’s likely the best time to be sneaking about.”

“I’ll be ready by then,” she said, scanning her things. “I’ll see you down there, I suppose.”

Thor hesitated a moment. “Are you sure?,” he asked quietly. “That he’s there? That he’s alive?”

Her hands stilled, gripping the fabric of a satchel. “I’ve been having dreams. Not like any dreams I’ve ever had before. I can feel him there. He’s alive, but in a great deal of pain. He doesn’t know who I am, not really, but he’s glad to see me.” She met his gaze, green eyes stark. “I know it sounds mad. But I’m sure they’re real. That he’s alive somewhere and being hurt. We have to go find him.”

Something cold and hard settled in the pit of Thor’s stomach. He had no real reason to trust her as he did. Despite her time in the castle, he’d spoken to her only a handful of times, mostly in a group when she was far more interested in Loki. She was young, fragile, and a magic wielder, none of which made her particularly trustworthy. But Loki had obviously trusted her a great deal. Enough to pull back from the brink of madness at her behest. His brother had never trusted anyone who didn’t deserve it. Thor owed it to him to follow Syn where she lead.

He gave a brusque nod and turned to the door. “I’ll see you tonight.”

*

Something was different. He would say there was a change in the air, but there was no air where he was. No wind to change. But he could feel it. His dreams had changed, grown more vibrant, more real.

The woman. He could smell her, the scent of citrus and spring seemed to follow him into wakefulness, stark and out of place in this hell. He remembered her hair, silky and soft against his skin, a color without compare.

She was coming. She had promised him she would and she always kept her promises, didn’t she?

He almost didn’t want her to come. It was dark here, evil. He wanted to be gone, but didn’t want the darkness here to touch her. He’d rather die here than have her hurt.

He would protect her, he decided. If she really came here. If she tried to rescue him. He would protect her in return. 

It would be worth death to see her again.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, as always, to my beta SweetTea for her help.

Thor found Syn on the stairs down to the vaults. She had her bow, quiver, and satchel slung on her shoulders and back at various angles. When she saw him, she put a finger to her mouth to indicate silence. He nodded and together they headed down the stairs together. She lead him to the storage room near the vaults. It was so old and rarely used he had to put his shoulder into it, helping her open it. Once inside, she cleared a wide spot on the floor and set her satchel down, pulling out some items.

He leaned by the door and watched her, despite not quite understanding what all the herbs and chalk was for. She used a piece of string and chalk to draw two perfect circles, one inside the other, then began to write runes in the space between them.

Behind him, in the hallway, he heard the scrape of boots and the clang of metal. Fisting his hand around the handle of Mjolnir, he turned to stand in the doorway to face the intruder.

Only to find Sif, Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg standing there. For an instant, hope flared, but when he spoke, it was cautious. “If you’ve come to dissuade us, my answer has not changed.”

The warriors exchanged glances. “We’ve come to help,” Sif said.

“If we’re still welcome, of course,” Fandral added.

“We called Loki friend,” Hogun said in the somber way he had. “And we turned on him when he most needed us. We would like to correct that mistake.”

“Besides,” Volstagg said, slightly too loudly for a clandestine mission. “When have we ever let you go off and have fun without us?”

Thor felt a smile tug his mouth. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. “I’m sure your help will be most appreciated.” He stepped back, letting them file into the room that suddenly seemed a bit too small.

Syn took in the newcomers with an unreadable expression on her face. She glanced down at the circles she’d drawn. When she looked back up, she was wearing a crooked smile. “It’s going to be a rather snug fit.”

They stood along the edges of the room and watched her work. Finally, she stood and surveyed the chalk drawing, walking around it as she inspected her work. “All right. Everyone step inside the inner circle. I’ll draw the last rune from inside and we should be on our way.”

There was a moment of hesitation, then Thor stepped into the circle. Sif followed him, then Hogun, then Volstagg and Fandral. Syn found her place last, slinging her satchel back over her shoulders.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Sif asked as Syn crouched again, chalk at the ready.

The sorceress looked up at the warrior. “As sure as I can be. I’ve never actually done it before, but the theory is sound.”

This caused all of them to shift uncomfortably. Syn waited a moment, as if giving them the opportunity to step out of the ring and save themselves. When no one did, she took a deep breath and looked down. Thor was impressed, her hand didn’t shake a bit as she drew the last rune.

Traveling by the Bifrost could be momentarily disorienting, but for the most part it was a quick, exhilarating experience. Rarely, there was someone who grew ill with the crossing, but they usually adjusted after a few more trips or simply never attempted it again. Thor had been taking the Bifrost regularly since he was a youth. It was as common to him as riding.

Syn’s portal was another story entirely. There was a flash of gold light, blindingly bright. Then the sensation of movement, rapid and uneven, as if he was on a string being jerked about like a marionette. When he finally felt ground beneath his feet again, it took all he had not to stumble.

“Sorry,” Syn said, and her voice sounded as if it came from a great distance. “Don’t disturb the runes.”

He looked down to find the ground they stood on marked with the same circles and runes she had drawn in the basement. They looked scorched into the dry, grey earth but took her word that they could be disrupted. He and the others stepped over the marks gingerly. When he was no longer in danger of falling or ruining the runes, he looked around to scan their surroundings.

The world was as desolate and bare as Jotunheim, with the same cool colors. Here, at least, there hints of civilization. Lights of what might have been a city glittered in the distance. Closer, there was a series of caves that instinct told him were inhabited by something sentient. He tightened his hand on Mjolnir and looked down at Syn. “Where?”

She was looking at the bracelet she wore on her right wrist, styled in the shape of a snake. He’d seen it there many times, shining as if lit from within. Right now it was as dull as old gold, long neglected. An expression that was part grief and part anger crossed her face. It was gone swiftly, replaced by determination. She murmured something and gestured with a finger and a little spark appeared in her palm. She whispered Loki’s name and it flared brightly before lifting off her hand and darting forward like a wisp. Syn tugged her bow off her back and gestured towards the spark with her chin. “Follow it.”

Without another word, the six of them followed the spell towards the caves.

*

Something was happening.

There was commotion in the hallway outside his cell. Shouts and the sound of metal striking metal and flesh. Battle sounds. So familiar they were almost comforting. He’d been in battles. Side by side with. . . someone. Not the woman. Someone else. Someone important.

Pain seared through him and he writhed, shoulders digging into the cold stone beneath him. The agony drowned out the sounds for a while, his thoughts and memories scattering like leaves. For a few moments, there was nothing but the pain. There had never been anything but the pain.

When he surfaced again, the sounds were closer. He could hear voices now, distant but familiar. He gathered all his strength, trying to focus on the voices. Finally they grew close enough to hear words. “This way. This room.” It was a woman’s voice. _The_ woman’s voice. He tried to move, to surge up from the stone he was laying on so he could go to her. The chains bit into his skin, holding him down. He struggled until another drop of pain addled his senses.

In the haze of his suffering, he heard the scrape of the cell door open and a quiet, almost reverent voice say, “By the realms.”

It wasn’t the woman’s voice, but it was familiar, deep and rumbling. It was a voice he knew well. He wished the pain would fade so he could _think_.

He listened to the people enter the cell and realized his eyes were closed. He didn’t remember when he had closed them last. It had been a long time, he was certain. There was nothing to look at here in the dungeon, and watching for the next torture only made it worse. He should open them now, see who had come to him. Put faces to voices. But he couldn’t get his body to obey him.

Hands tugged sharply at his chains and he let out a low sound that was a mix of pain and relief as they began to unwind from his flesh. There was scuffling near his head, then the scent of leather and citrus. He thought there was someone near him and tried desperately to open his eyes before the next wave of agony reached him.

It never came. He waited for it, as the hands freed him, but the new pain did not come. “What is that?” the rumble asked.

“Venom. Anti magic. It’s what’s keeping him weak, preventing him from escaping.” That was the woman, sounding clipped and confident. But he knew her, knew that was a front to hide deeper emotion.

“Won’t it harm you?”

At that, his eyes flew open. Nothing was allowed to harm the woman. His vision was blurry a moment, then he saw legs, encased in black scale armor. Kneeling. She was kneeling on the stone by his head. He let his gaze travel up, taking in the black and green armor, the plait of her hair, the pale lines of her arms. Her long fingered hands held a bowl, one his captors had used to feed him. She was holding it up, above him, catching the drops of poison before they could touch him. The bowl was small and would overflow soon, allowing the venom to burn her hands. Her face was a mask of angry determination as she glared at the bowl and the venom. She didn’t even glance at the rumble when she answered, “Yes. Try to get him untied before that happens.”

The hands worked quicker, tearing his bindings away. He was able to focus a bit more now, without the constant waves of pain. He was gathering his thoughts as the last of the chains fell away and the hands hauled him off the stone and onto the floor.

The woman tossed the bowl of toxic liquid away and scrambled off the platform to kneel beside him. “Can you help him?” the rumble asked her.

“Some.” Her green eyes moved rapidly, taking in his numerous wounds. “I’ll need power left to get us home.” She touched him, then, hands warm and soft on his abused flesh. The heat seemed to spread, covering him like a warm blanket. It soothed the worst of his wounds, chased the cobwebs from his mind. His thoughts seemed to snap into place, so cleanly it was a wonder it wasn’t audible.

Loki took a deep breath and looked at her. “Syn.” His voice was harsh and raspy, abused from screaming.

She smiled, eyes wet, and touched his cheek. “Hello there.”

He turned his head to the source of the rumble. “Thor,” he said, hoping his mistreated voice still conveyed the level of affection he had for the big oaf at that moment.

Thor clapped a hand on Loki’s shoulder. “It’s good to see you, brother,” he said quietly. 

“We have company,” Volstagg called from the doorway. For the first time Loki realized that the others were there. Sif and the warriors had come to this hellish place to rescue him. He imagined that was more for Thor than him, but still. They were here.

“Go,” Syn said to Thor. “I’ll help him. You’re more useful in a battle.”

Thor nodded and stood, hammer at the ready. Syn wrapped an arm under Loki’s shoulder. “Can you stand? We need to get back outside, to the portal circle. I can heal you more but-”

He was shaking his head, over and over. “No. I could try. But there’s going to be too many for them to fight.”

“We already took care of the guards coming in. There can’t be that many more.”

He caught her gaze, trying to convey the seriousness of the situation with his expression as much as his voice. “He has spent a great deal of time on me,” he told her. “He will not let me go without a fight. He will send his army.”

For the first time since he had opened his eyes and seen her, her face faltered and he had a glimpse of exactly how frightened she was. And he loved her a little bit for not wasting time asking who ‘he’ was or why he’d been torturing Loki. Even in the midst of her fear, she stayed focused on the task at hand. “We have to get back to the portal ring. I can’t get us home without it. If we don’t get back there. . . I _can’t_.”

Behind her, the warriors were bracing the door closed, talking quietly regarding their own plans. Loki looked back at Syn’s face. “I could. I was practicing interrealm travel before I fell. I remember how.”

She shook her head sharply. “You can’t even stand how can you get us all home?”

He waited for her to meet his eyes again. “I would need your power in addition to mine.”

The breath rushed out of her and he watched as she registered what he’d said. She studied his face a moment, then the hint of a smile ghosted her mouth. “That’s very permanent.”

He glanced pointedly at the door. “So is death.”

She lifted a hand and rubbed the back of it against her forehead. For a moment he thought she might cry. Then she just nodded and looked over her shoulder. “Gather around, we’re leaving right now.”

“Do you remember the instructions?” he asked her as the others backed away from the door to surround them.

Syn gave him an utterly disdainful look and reached into the fold of her armor, pulling out one of his knives. “Blood and breath.” She put the point of the dagger to the inside of her left arm. He expected her to hesitate but she sliced into the skin without a flinch, then leaned over to make a matching wound on the inside of his right arm. “This is a terrible plan,” she muttered.

“I’m sorry,” he rasped.

She grit her teeth as she cut him, then looked back at his face as she tucked the blade back in her armor. “Don’t be. Your terrible plans have a way of working out for the best.” She settled her arm on his, pressing their wounds together. Bracing her other hand next to his head, she leaned close. “Ready?”

He reached out with his free hand and grabbed Thor’s ankle. His brother took the hint and grabbed Sif’s arm. She glanced back, then reached for Hogun and so on around the group until they were all touching. Loki nodded at Syn and she bent close and covered his mouth with hers.

It wasn’t a proper kiss; the point was to mingle their breaths. He inhaled through his nose and breathed out through the mouth in the same rhythm as she did. For a few breaths nothing happened and he felt a trickle of dread that they had forgotten something or were doing it wrong somehow. His lungs began to burn, then his arm. Then he felt the full force of her magic crash into him.

He had always thought of his power as a pool or well. Something he dipped into when he needed to work a spell. Currently, the well was all but dry, his power drained by the venom and the effort of keeping himself alive. Syn’s magic was like a waterfall of gold light, filling the pool until it overflowed. With it and what was left of his own strength, he could accomplish anything. With a final check to make sure he was connected to all the warriors who had rescued him, he pictured Asgard and let the magic loose.

There was a rush of wind and an odd, exhilarating sense of movement. Then he was laying flat on warm, dusty stones. Syn was slumped on his chest, fingers lax on his arm. He released Thor’s ankle to touch her back, felt her breathe under his hand, and relaxed in relief. A glance around told him they were in the courtyard outside the palace stables.

 Thor and Sif were yelling for help. Volstagg and Hogun flanked them, keeping the interested crowd at bay. Fandral had kneeled next to Loki’s side and made as if to move Syn off of his chest. Loki wrapped a weak, battered arm tightly around her and the other man nodded, simply taking his cloak off to cover them and better hide his wounds from prying eyes.

Loki could hear feet running towards them, recognized the voice of their main healer. With a sigh, he let his eyes close, certain they were now safe. With that thought, exhaustion claimed him.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long one to end part 3.
> 
> This one is self betaed. SweetTea will be back next chapter :)

Loki slept peacefully and without dreams for the first time in six months. When he woke, he was in a bed, with proper sheets and pillows, staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. A glance around told him he was in the healing halls, in a curtained off corner. He stifled a groan as he tried to sit up. Every part of him ached, from his legs to his back and arms. But ache was a huge improvement over where he had been when he’d lost consciousness, so he didn’t feel it was appropriate to complain.

Sitting up, he glanced down to find himself thoroughly bandaged, his entire chest covered with white cloth. His right arm, where Syn had cut him, ached the worst and he could see spots of red soaking through the bandaging. He flexed his hand idly, turning his attention inward.

His well of power had mostly refilled, shimmering green with flecks of Syn’s gold surfacing. He tried following one of the flecks to its source and got a vague sense of her, somewhere in the palace, probably sleeping. He drew away for fear of waking her. They would need to talk, soon, about all manner of things. First, he needed to get out of here. 

A glance under his sheets told him someone had supplied him with breeches. He was just swinging his legs out of bed when the curtains parted and his mother stepped through.

She had a slim book in her hand; it dropped from her fingers as soon as she saw him upright. They stared at each other for a few heartbeats. Then she cried out his name and launched herself at him. He caught her, rocking back at the impact. “Hello, Mother,” he said quietly.

She leaned back, wiping at her eyes with her knuckles. “It’s very good to see you awake, Loki.”

“How long was I asleep?”

“Almost two days,” she told him, drawing a chair closer to the bed and sinking into it. “Eir gave you some medicine to keep you out. We thought you would heal better with rest.” She lifted a hand and touched the bandages. “There will be some scars. If Syn had been awake perhaps-”

“Is she ill?” he asked, startled at the urgency in his own voice.

His mother studied him carefully. “She has slept as you have. She was exhausted with the effort in bringing Thor and the others to rescue you. She woke briefly, long enough to warn us to close the rune circle she’d made in the basement.” She reached across him and touched the bandages on his arm. “Do you know what this means for you both?”

He glanced down at her slim fingers on the white bandage. “Some. We found a description of the ritual ages ago but there was little information.” He looked at his mother’s face. “Have you seen it done?”

“Once. A very long time ago.” Her expression was unreadable. “I fear you may have begun something you’re unprepared for.” She shook herself and gave a sudden smile. “No matter. It’s done and you’re home. These things have a way of seeing to themselves.” She touched his cheek, the feel of her fingers on his skin achingly familiar and comforting. “It’s so good to have you home.”

Emotion threatened to choke him. Things would get positively maudlin if he allowed it, so he tried for some light teasing. “Was the funeral magnificent? Did you mourn?”

His mother’s smile was watery, but her grip on his hand was firm. “I never gave up hope.”

For an instant, it was as if a shadow passed over her face, darkening her features. Loki felt a flicker of unease at that. He had asked Syn once what it looked like to her when someone lied. _“A shadow,”_ she had said. _“Darkness passing over their face.”_ It had been an idle curiosity at the time, wondering if there was some way he could hide it from her. He’d never thought he’d see it first hand.

His arm throbbed and he resisted rubbing it. He needed to talk to Syn.

He must have given some sign of the hurt because his mother started to stand. “Are you in pain? I can get a potion. Or a salve.”

Loki was reminded of when he’d been injured or ill as a child. He’d hated to be fussed over, preferring to suffer in silence. It had driven his mother to fits, trying to care for him. Seeing her fluttering now brought it back, truly made him feel at home. “If I allow you to ply me with something may I get out of bed?” he asked, an echo of a deal they had made many times.

The words must have brought the same memories to her mind, because she smiled and looked on the verge of tears at the same time. “I shall give you a salve for the scars. You can bring it to your room.” He nodded in agreement and waited for her to return with the little bottle. She waited, watching, as he stood for the first time. He still ached, but was quite solid on his feet and gave her a smile. She returned the smile and held the curtain for him to walk through.

He got some odd looks on the walk to his chambers, though whether that was because he was shirtless or back from the dead it was difficult to tell. He could have teleported himself there directly, but was hesitant to dip into his magic yet, for fear of disturbing Syn. She appeared to still be sleeping and he was loathe to wake her if she needed her rest.

His room was as he had left it, save for a few minor changes. The notes on his desk had been shuffled and reorganized. He suspected that was from Syn looking them over. His bed was unmade, which was odd, as his habit had always been to straighten the sheets before starting his day. Granted, his last few days here had been rather hectic, but he didn’t think he had been remiss. When he sat on the covers and moved the pillow he caught a strong whiff of citrus and spring. She had slept in here, in his absence.

He needed to speak with her.

The gold flecks in his pool of green seemed to flare brightly and he followed their path to find a vague sense of confusion and worry. She was awake.

His closet was as organized as he had left it. He had no stomach for his leathers right now, and dressed in a simple tunic and breeches. Then, wanting to see her before she’d left her room to hunt for him, he took himself to her side with a thought.

She sat at a grand, triple mirrored vanity made of polished wood. Jewelry and books were scattered in front of her. She didn’t notice him immediately, toying with the snake bracelet she still wore on her wrist. As he watched, she slid it off her wrist and placed it on the table in front of her. Unconsciously, he touched the spot on his arm where his snake had once coiled. He had lost it month ago, in the midst of his torture. He imagined it had been difficult for her, to lose what little connection they’d had.

The movement caught her eye and she jumped a little, turning her head. She stared at him a moment and he saw her swallow. “You’re well?” she asked.

He nodded. “You?”

She turned on the vanity bench so she was facing him fully. She was wearing a blue and gold dressing gown and as she moved he caught glimpses of bare leg and arm. She sported a white bandage on her left arm. It was spotted with red, as his was. “I am. I think I slept better in the last two days then I did the entire time you were gone.”

With that quiet, self conscious admission he had a sudden image of her working tirelessly in the library, looking through every book she could find. His mother may have been lying when she said she never gave up hope, but he was fairly certain Syn had never had a moment’s doubt of finding him. Emotion tightened his voice. “I owe you a debt I’m not sure I can every repay.”

“I didn’t-” She stopped herself, smiling oddly, hands twisting on themselves. “I didn’t do it so you would owe me anything. You must know that. You must know why-”

He stepped closer to her and she stood as he reached her. She was still wringing her hands and he feared she would hurt her arm so he took her hands in his. “I dreamed of you,” he said softly, surprised at the confession. He didn’t have it in him to release her. “I remembered you. Even when I had forgotten my own name, I remembered you.” He cupped her cheek, drawing her closer to him. “I know why you came to find me.”

She murmured his name, then stretched up to kiss him. He sank into her, wrapping an arm around her waist, the other hand fisting in her long hair, holding her to him. She had started the kiss off sweetly, full of promise. But he quickly found himself deepening it, holding her tightly and drowning in her fresh spring scent. For months he had been trapped in a world of pain and darkness, with only dim memories to keep him sane. Memories he had, at his worst moments, doubted. Now she was back in his arms, soft and warm and exactly as he had remembered her.

He lifted his head, to ask permission or apologize or. . . something. But before he could get a word out she gave a little groaning-growl and yanked his mouth back to hers. Right, he would take that as consent. Eagerness, even. His hand found the ties of her robe and undid the knot. The fabric hung open and he touched her bare skin. She released him long enough to let it slide down her arms and puddle on the floor, leaving her naked.

Her hand fisted on his shirt and he felt the heat of her magic as she conjured it off of him. His own magic rippled in reaction and he started in surprise. The kiss broke and she looked at the bandages still covering him. She stroked the one across his chest and made a quiet noise of sympathy. He was in absolutely no mood to discuss his injuries and bent to kiss her again, steering her towards her bed. She went easily, backing up until her legs hit the mattress. She tugged him down with her as she fell back on it.

They tangled together on the unmade sheets, still warm from her long sleep. With a twist of her wrist his breeches disappeared. He used his powers to lock her door and barricade it from any intruders for good measure. Her eyes widened when he did, confirming she felt changes in her magic as well. That conversation could wait, however. He lowered his head, pressing his mouth to her throat, tasting her skin. She sighed softly, fingers winding through his hair. He took his time exploring her, mapping her body with all his senses. He recalled the first time, how he had tried to get lost in her, to forget all his trouble and find pleasure in her. This time, he wanted them both lost. So that they could pretend the last half year hadn’t happened. That it had always been this way.

Her patience did not last the length of his exploration, however. He found himself sitting up against the wooden headboard with her straddling his hips. It was a rather delightful view, but, “I wasn’t done,” he muttered, capturing one nipple between his teeth.

She gasped sharply and rolled her hips, taking him deep in one smooth motion. “I don’t intend this to be the last time,” she retorted, gripping his shoulders as she began to rock against him. 

He cupped her waist in his hands, bracing her but not restricting her movement. He tipped his head back, watching her beneath heavy lids. This was how he wanted to spend the rest of the day, he decided. Possibly the remainder of the week. Just her and him, naked and making up for lost time. She was utterly beautiful like this, skin flushed and damp with sweat, hair a wild tangle of curls. He cupped her cheek, then drew her down for a hot kiss. As he did, his other hand snaked between them to stroke her.

Her climax seemed to surprise her, coming on all at once. She gasped, then cried out into his mouth, shaking in his arms. He arched up into her a few times, gripping her hips as he found his own pleasure. She sank down against his chest and he managed to wrap his arms around her, stroking her back. He could feel her heart pounding against his chest, her breath puffing against his skin. He pressed a hot kiss to her shoulder, right where it met her throat. “I love you, too,” he muttered.

She laughed a little, sitting up enough to kiss his mouth. “Good.” Suddenly she gasped and jerked away, sliding off his lap. Before he could speak his arm began to burn beneath the bandages. He clawed the white fabric off even as Syn did the same to hers.

Once unbandaged he could see the knife wound had healed, though it didn’t look like any scar he had ever seen. It was more like a brand or tattoo. And it didn’t follow the line Syn had carved there. Rather, it was a rune, shaped like a squared off, upside down U, with one ‘horn’ slightly longer then the other. A glance at Syn told him her wound had healed the same. She tilted her head, studying it. “Is that uruz?”

“It is.” It was a common rune for general magic use and was considered most useful for strengthening energy, be it physical, magical or sexual. He was about to made a crude joke when he saw her eyes had widened. “What is it?”

“Look at your magic,” she said softly.

He obeyed and discovered the pool of green and gold he had just started to become accustomed to was now a raging river. No longer contained, the power flowed from him to her, green and gold mixed in equal measure. If he followed its path he came upon a bright spark of gold, full of joy and surprise and affection. He smiled and caught her arm, kissing the rune mark. “Rather permanent, as you said.”

“Did you know this would happen?” He sensed no anger in her, only curiosity.

He shook his head. “No. I knew only what I showed you in the book and little more. I’m under the impression that most mages that tried such a bond didn’t live much past the ritual. It was a last resort, usually used in time of war or other great peril. A last gasp of power before the world came down on their heads. And certainly nothing I read involved power sharing between a couple who was. . . romantically involved.”

Her cheeks pinked rather adorably. “Do you think the, ah, recent activity-” She gestured almost shyly at the bed. “Changed the bond?”

His finger stroked her arm, back and forth over the mark. It was slightly raised and he could easily trace its shape. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “It’s very old magic and unknown to just about everyone. Even my mother only knew what it was, not what would come of it. It is what it is, what we made it. It’s up to us to discover how it works. Though I was already noticing changes before I came to see you.” She tilted her head in question. “I believe I saw my mother lie when she spoke to me. A shadow with no source crossed her face.”

Syn startled in surprise. “Have you been able to lie since you woke up?”

“I don’t believe I’ve tried,” he admitted after a moment’s thought.

She tugged her arm out of his grip and arranged them so she wasn’t touching him at all. “Try. We need to know how much of the curse is affecting you.”

He loved her for her immediate concern and pragmatism. Though her irritation with her curse might explain both. It would be extremely irritating if neither of them could tell a lie. He considered what to say, then grinned slyly. “You’re hideous.” Her eyes widened and he bent close to kissed her. “And I am absolutely not planning to ravish you again,” he added when he lifted his head.

She giggled and the spark at the other end of his magic flared with delight. “Still silvertongued,” she murmured, winding her arms around him.

“So it would seem.” He kissed her again, prepared to pin her down to the bed and continue celebrating his homecoming, when a thought occurred to him and he lifted his head. “Have you noticed any new talents? Things you couldn’t do before?”

The scowl she’d begun to make when he’d stopped kissing her melted off and she blinked rapidly. “No,” she said thoughtfully. “But I’d only just woken up when you came to find me. And then I was a bit distracted.”

He sat up, tugging her with him. “Try something. An illusion, perhaps. That is my specialty and it’s always eluded you before.”

She nodded and frowned, a line appearing between her brows as she concentrated. She made a gesture, a little twist of her wrist like he often used, but nothing happened. He felt her disappointment as surely as his own. “Perhaps it will take more time to develop,” he offered.

Her scowl was back and he decided further reassurance would be unwise. Syn glanced around the room as if searching for inspiration. Suddenly she grinned and lifted her hands, smoothing them over her hair. In the wake of her touch the hair appeared a bright, coppery red instead of its normal blonde-brown. She tugged a lock forward to inspect it. With a shake of her head the color shimmered back to normal and she beamed at him in pride.

“Glamours work on you now,” he said, touching her hair himself. “How very convenient.”

“I imagine we can have all manner of fun with that,” she agreed.

He slid his fingers into her hair, cupping the back of her head and drawing her close to kiss her again. “How long do you think they’ll let us hide in here?”

“Mmm.” She let him tug her on top of his chest, kissing him again. “We’ve been through a trauma,” she murmured, arching into his wandering hands. “Surely we’ve earned some private time.”

He agreed, and imagined there was no one brave enough to come knocking if they did figure out he was in here. All the same, he reinforced the barricade on the door. With a flare of gold that was oddly amused, she helped him do so.

*

“I could conjure food for us right here.” Loki watched Syn brush out her extremely tangled hair. Her strokes didn’t even pause at his suggestion. “An entire feast,” he added. “I could even feed you. Lying in bed. Naked.”

She finally glanced over at him, arching a brow. “We have been in here almost six hours. It’s supper time. I’m _starving_. You have to face your family eventually. Why not do it with food in front of you to distract you?”

He tipped his head back on the pillows with a groan. “What shall we discuss first? My attempt at treason? The six months of torture I withstood? Or perhaps the rather scandalous affair you and I appear to have embarked on?”

It had been such a pleasant six hours, locked in her room. Granted, he was just as hungry as she claimed to be - possibly more - but he would not have traded the time for the grandest meal ever served in Asgard. He had learned all manner of things about her and her body. What made her gasp and sigh and shriek with giggles and try to push him away. He fully intended to spend a great deal of time memorizing every part of her. Lovemaking aside, dozing in her arms had revived him far better then any medicine Eir could have mixed up. They had even found time to talk, with her catching him up on the interesting gossip he had missed out on, what little had filtered to her in the library, at least.

She had barely spoken of what she’d done to find him, but he had a good idea. The spells required to not only locate him between the worlds but to cast a portal that brought her and the warriors there were well beyond her abilities. At least, what her abilities had been when he’d fallen. Now she might even surpass him in some areas. She was eager to share the knowledge with him, though. And he suspected with their connection boosting his power his learning curve would be quite easy.

He wanted, with every part of him, to simply stay here in her bed and ignore the rest of the palace. But she had a point, he would have to face his family eventually, for good or ill. At least this way she was offering to go with him.

With an irritated sigh he stood and dressed himself in a tunic and breeches with a long tailed leather jacket. He wasn’t quite ready to don his full leathers, but felt the need to sport a little armor. During his distraction, Syn had slipped into a green and gold dress and pulled her hair back in combs. He smiled to see her in his colors. She was _his_ in a fundamental way most people would never understand. A rather primitive part of him liked that she wore clothes to align herself with him. She was also wearing the necklace he’d given her, the orb a bright, joyful white.

He walked to where she stood beside her vanity and kissed her, sliding his arms around her waist. “Will you protect me from Odin’s wrath?”

“You assume he’ll be angry,” she said, fussing with the lapels of his jacket. “And not happy to have his son back.”

“I am not his son,” he replied automatically, but found no venom in the words.

Perhaps because they were so lacking in anger, Syn simply sighed and kissed him again. “I think he will surprise you.”

Loki reached down and plucked the snake bracelet off the vanity. “You don’t wish to wear it.”

“I wore it to feel closer to you, but I admit with you here and without its mate on your arm I don’t see the point. It holds bad memories for me.” He gave her a questioning look and she sighed again. “I remember rather vividly what it felt like when I could no longer feel you on the other end. When you lost your band.”

He set the bracelet down with a soft clatter and wrapped his arms around her again, tightly. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

She pressed her face into the curve of his throat and took a deep breath. “I’m very glad you’re home,” was all she said.

He held her another moment, then kissed her temple. “Come. I find myself too hungry to care about Odin’s reaction.”

Syn tucked her arm through his as they walked out of her chamber and down the hall towards the dining hall. “Maybe he’ll banish you to Midgard and you can get your very own perky scientist.”

Loki laughed softly and looked down at her. “Have you met Thor’s little human?”

She nodded. “He brought her up once. Once. Your father turned up his nose and called her a goat. Shockingly, she did not return.”

“A _goat_?”

“Oh, something about belonging here the way a goat belongs at a ball. It was not his best insult. Thor refused to talk to him for weeks, staying down on Midgard like a pouting child. Your mother actually came to the library to talk to me about it. Well, at me. She was a tad exasperated.”

The fact his mother had accepted Syn as a confidante made him smile. Perhaps the reaction to their relationship would be less horrified then he feared. “What did you think of her? The human?”

“I liked her. We only spoke a few moments. She was fascinated by the library. If I had been less distracted I would have found her some books to help with her research. Born on a different realm, I imagine she’d be a powerful sorceress.”

Before he could form anything resembling a reply Loki was tackled by a large buffoon shaped like his brother. “You’re awake.”

“And being crushed.” The words only make Thor hug him tighter. Loki vaguely recalled he and Thor hugging as children. They have been close, Thor was affectionate, it happened. As they neared adolescence the habit had slowly died off, being replaced by manly slaps on the back or arm. Occasionally, when he was feeling particularly effusive, Thor would grab him by the neck and shake him slightly, like an enthusiastic puppy. This sort of rib crushing, airway bruising embrace hadn’t happened in centuries.

There was absolutely no reason to admit he was happy to see his brother. But he did manage to wiggle an arm free to pat him on the back. “It’s good to see you, Thor,” he said quietly.

“I knew you could not be lost forever.” Unlike their mother, there was no shadow on Thor’s face. He had not given up hope, any more then Syn had.

“Thank you for coming to get me.” He squirmed in Thor’s grip and fortunately, his brother took the hint and released him. “We were seeking out supper.” He gestured to Syn in case Thor hadn’t noticed her.

“I was coming to find you. We’re having a small, private meal. Just the family. Father was hoping you were well enough to attend.”

Syn’s smile faltered a little and Loki reached for her hand. Before he could imperiously declare her attendance mandatory Thor added, “You’re welcome, of course, Lady Syn. Mother insisted.”

With that taking the wind out of his sails, Loki simply tugged her hand and followed Thor down the hall to his father’s private dining hall. Smaller then the usual one, it was still large enough to seat three score with room to spare. His parents were there already, talking, but quieted when the three of them entered. Frigga stepped forward and kissed his cheek, then hugged Syn tightly, whispering something in her ear that Loki couldn’t catch. He didn’t sense any upset from her and turned to give them privacy, coming face to face with Odin.

He braced for whatever might come next, be it lecture or disappointment or fury. Instead, his father wrapped him in a hug that was almost as fierce at Thor’s had been. “Welcome home, Loki,” he said gruffly.

Hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around his father. “I didn’t expect welcome,” he admitted.

Odin was silent a moment, then stepped back, holding Loki at arms length. “I wronged you, by lying to you. It is only fitting when you found out you reacted as you did. Your mother warned me when I brought you here that a child raised in lies would feel the difference. If you can forgive my trespass then I will forgive yours. I fear, from what I know of your imprisonment, that we both have greater enemies to contend with.”

Loki was stunned, all but speechless. He had expected so many responses. Punishment. Had imagined a dozen scenarios. Trying to defend himself, Syn defending him. At this point, he’d expected Thor might even stand at his side. It had never, in all his conjecture, occurred to him that his father would simply forgive him. That, perhaps, two wrongs could cancel each other out and that they would move forward, with a better understanding of the other.

He supposed it helped that he had not actually succeeded in banishing Thor or destroying Jotunheim. It was far easier to forgive misguided intent then violent actions. 

He still wasn’t entirely at peace with the lie his life had been. He was Jotun and that would stand between him and others, no matter what they might say. But perhaps Odin was correct. There were greater challenges to deal with and the past did not need to be a blueprint for the future. As if she sensed his thoughts, he felt a flare of pride come from Syn.

Odin was watching him, part expectant, part cautious. Slowly, Loki held out a hand that the older man immediately gripped. “Thank you, Father.” The word didn’t come as easily as it once had, but it no longer tasted sour in his mouth.

His father squeezed his hand, then clapped him on the shoulder. “Come. Sit. Tomorrow we’ll have a proper feast in your honor but tonight, let’s just enjoy the quiet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is the end of Part 3.
> 
> I will be taking a posting break next Sunday in an effort to build up my buffer and let me beta catch up a bit. I am also going on vacation the weekend after that and will be driving home from LA on Sunday the 20th. I will try to get a chapter posted, but may not be up for it. I'll toss something up on Tumblr to make up for being late, if it happens.
> 
> All my other stories will post as usual.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so begins Part 4.
> 
> Thank you for your patience. I have about a month's worth of buffer, despite being too sick to do much writing the last couple weeks. _Woven_ will update on Sundays again until Part 4 is complete. Then I may take a bit of a break while I decide if there is going to be a part 5 or not. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“For short lived creatures, humans do tend to move around often. A comparison to ants is almost inevitable.” Loki noted the glare Thor was currently giving him and arranged his face into something resembling contrition. “Squirrels?”

“Loki.”

“Fine. Where is Miss Jane moving to now?”

He was walking Thor down to the Bifrost gate. His human mistress was moving to a new location and, for some reason, required his brother to go down and assist her.

“London,” Thor said. “Chasing another batch of strange readings. Not caused by us, this time. Something about gravitational anomalies and spatial extrusions.” Loki arched a brow at him and Thor shrugged. “I can repeat what she says, even when I don’t understand it.” 

Loki chuckled, but rapidly lost his humor as they neared the spot on the bridge he had fallen from. He had been back in Asgard almost a year and, while he tried not to dwell on the negative, he also tried to avoid the bridge as much as possible. It was hard not to think of his fall and the utter blackness that had surrounded him. Thor seemed to notice his distraction, but held his tongue as they passed.

“So,” Loki said, dragging his gaze away from edge and back to his brother. “You’re going to use your superior Asgardian strength to help your woman move furniture.”

“I have seen you use your magic to fix a tear in Syn’s hem,” his brother retorted. “You do not get to judge.”

“Touché.” They reached the gate and were silently greeted by Heimdall. Loki wasn’t entirely sure what the gatekeeper thought of him. Most everyone else had forgiven him his madness, to one degree or another. Loki suspected the man was uncomfortable with his ability to slip out of his all-seeing sight. Their interactions remained cordial, at least. Loki didn’t fear that he’d be sent somewhere unpleasant the next time he used the Bifrost.

“Give Jane my best,” he told Thor, wishing to part of good terms.

“You could come down once she’s settled. You may find her work interesting.”

He doubted that sincerely, but didn’t want to offend Thor. They had found an odd but easy respect for each other in the past year. He made an effort not to antagonize him unnecessarily. “I’ll think on it. Perhaps Syn would like a trip.”

That appeared to be good enough for Thor. He held out a hand. “Take care, brother.”

Honestly, he was traveling to Midgard for a few days, not going to war. Still, he clasped his hand. “Safe travels,” he replied.

The Bifrost blazed behind them and Thor stepped forward to be drawn inside. Loki waited for the light to fade, then tapped into the river of magic that bubbled inside. He followed it to the warm gold glow at the other end and, with a thought, travelled to her side.

He found himself in the room he and Syn had claimed as their “study.” It had become obvious, soon after he’d returned, that they needed somewhere private they could go that was neither of their bed chambers. Syn had found an unused, forgotten turret in the older part of the palace. It had taken less than a day to clean it, then they had begun the task of furnishing it. It had been a nice project as he recovered from his time away. Syn had even managed to convince her younger brother to send her some things from home. The arm chair and footstool she now occupied seemed awkward and spindly to him, especially in comparison to the heavy leather chair he used, but she swore it fit her perfectly and made her think of home.

It was a cozy little room, smaller than his bedchamber, though not by much. It had been awkward to furnish, being round, with a massive fireplace taking up the southern curve. Still, they had managed to fit two chairs in front of said fireplace, along with a plush rug from Alfheim. A desk and chair dominated the opposite wall, along with a bookcase holding whatever volumes they were currently studying. There was a spindly, spiral staircase that lead up to a smaller room they had dubbed “the work room.” It was a safe, warded place to experiment with their spells and potions. The western wall opened out to a small balcony overlooking the Star Sea and the Bifrost. A few simple enchantments had made the turret even more secluded, so only they or their invited guests could enter. It also shielded it from Heimdall’s eyes, a fact he imagined got under the gatekeeper’s skin.

She looked up and smiled when he appeared, lifting her cheek for a kiss. “You saw your brother off?”

“Safely on his way to play pack animal for his pet scientist.”

Syn shook her head, watching him sink into his chair. “You should speak kindly of her,” she scolded. “Thor has always been supportive of us.”

He sighed, tipping his head back. “I know, I know. I just. . . he had to fall in love with a mortal.”

“We’re all mortal, Loki. We’ll die one day, same as Jane.”

“Give or take five thousand years.” He tried not to sound snide when he pointed it out. But it was a rather large gap in life expectancy.

“Thor knows that. It’s his choice. Why does it rile you so?”

Loki scowled and turned away from her gaze. Sometimes, he swore she saw right through him with those sharp green eyes of hers. He wanted to lie, to tell her that humans were beneath them and his brother deserved better. But she would see through any deception and only dig harder for the truth. “She will die. In a year, or ten, or a hundred. And then Thor will be left alone and heartbroken. And there will be nothing I can do to help him.” 

Syn made a soft sound and he felt her sympathy pulse through the bond they shared. He could only imagine what she was feeling from him. “You will help him by being his brother,” she said gently. “And being strong in whatever way he needs you to be.”

Comfort wasn’t exactly his forte. And he doubted Thor would seek it when the time came, anyway. Still, it wasn’t worth dwelling on now. Jane made him happy. Syn was right, he should support that, as best he could.

He shook of his dark thoughts and looked at her. “What have you been up to while I was seeing to my brother?”

“Reading my correspondence.” She lifted the little pile of papers in her lap. “My mother writes to enquire when she might expect news of our betrothal.”

That would be the fifth time since Syn’s family had visited at mid winter. The woman was persistent, he’d give her that. Hardly a positive trait in a potential mother-in-law. “Did you explain to her that we share a bond far deeper than any repetition of meaningless vows could ever replicate?”

“You know, I _did_. And yet, for some reason, she would prefer the vows and ceremony to me conducting a clandestine, semi-scandalous affair with a prince of Asgard.”

“Have you ever been to an Asgardian wedding? They’re interminable. It literally takes an entire day. I’ve been in battles that were more pleasant.” That was only slightly exaggerating. He’d attended a wedding of a noble as a youth that had lasted eleven hours. Four women had fainted.

“We can negotiate the actual ceremony later, my mother would be happy with an official betrothal.”

“Are you sure you just don’t want to have a pretty party?” he asked, with a teasing smile.

She put her papers to the side and stood. “Yes, because I so enjoy a party.” She stepped close to him, putting a knee on the chair beside his leg. “You should think about it, Loki, darling.” She wound her arms around his neck. “Else I might find myself another prince.”

He tipped his head back. “There are five princes of age in the realms, not including Earth. Besides me, two of them are your brothers. One of them is mine and the last one is a dwarf. I’m liking my odds.” He reached up and drew her down for a kiss. “Perhaps I’m keeping my options open for a different princess.”

Her mouth quirked into that little half smile he adored. “Oh, that’s true. Vanaheim does have a beautiful princess. I hear she’ll be out of diapers soon.”

He met her for another kiss. “I suppose we’re stuck with each other.”

She gave a little noise of agreement, sinking into the kiss. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her on his lap despite her slightly awkward position. It was still oddly novel to have someone trust him so easily. 

His hands stroked her back, played with her hair. The first few weeks after his return, when their bond was still solidifying, had been. . . intense. The need to touch each other, be together, had been intoxicating, overriding the needs for food and sleep at times. The ritual they’d used to share their magic was old, blood magic, which tended to be volatile and unpredictable. When they had managed to separate, they’d spend time in the library, hunting down any scrap of information on sorcerers who’d managed the bond before them. There was frustratingly little record of it being accomplished long term. His mother recalled a pair in Vanaheim, when she was a very young girl, but she had no idea what had become of them. Most died soon after the ritual, victims of war or whatever catastrophe that had prompted them to bond in the first place. 

Perhaps that was for the best. Loki couldn’t imagine sharing this sort of link with someone he didn’t love. Though, it was likely that if they hadn’t been in love the bond would have worked differently, or not formed properly at all. It made him wonder if that’s what had killed the others, not violence. If an undeveloped bond could kill as surely as war. In the interest of helping potential future scholars, Syn had begun cataloging their experience. With a bit of whitewashing in the interest of keeping it scholarly and not prurient, he hoped.

His fingers had begun toying with the laces of her gown when she lifted her head, pushing away from him slightly. “Oh. I almost forgot. Your father wants to see you.”

He arched a brow. “Did he come knocking?” Odin tolerated their appropriation of part of his castle, but had not, to Loki’s knowledge, come to see their efforts.

Syn’s mouth twisted up into a wry smile. “No. He tied a note to the cat.”

When the weather had first started to chill in autumn and they’d lit the fire for the first time, Syn had lamented that a hearth seemed empty without a cat warming itself on it. Two days later, Loki had happened to be at the stables and overheard the horsemaster griping about a member of a late season kitten litter that had more interest in grooming her paws than chasing mice out of the grain. Against his better judgement, Loki had taken the white-pawed ball of black and orange fluff and presented her to Syn as a late birthday gift. The creature had made a noise less like a meow and more like a crotchety old woman cackling over her cauldron. Syn, who apparently had a soft spot for grumpy things that no one else wanted, had named it Dragon and let it drape around her shoulders like a stole. The purring had been deafening.

Now, five months later, Dragon had the run of the palace, though her favorite spot was Syn’s shoulders or, predictably, the hearth of their study. She worshiped Syn, tolerated him, and appeared to detest everyone else. Currently, she was stretched the length of the hearth, absorbing the heat of the fire and occasionally twitching as if she hunted in her dreams while disdaining it in her waking hours. Loki had once tried to stroke her belly while she was in that position. He had learned a very important lesson about cats that day. The image of Odin, the great and powerful Allfather, wrestling with her long enough to tie a note on her filled Loki with utter, unbridled joy. 

“I wonder how many scratches he earned for that bit of cleverness,” he mused. Syn made as if to stand, probably to retrieve the note, and he tightened his hands to hold her to his lap. “What did it say?”

She pressed a hand to her chest, face the epitome of wounded pride. “You think I would read your correspondence?” He tilted his head and arched a brow. Her lips pursed in irritation, but she slid her arms around his shoulders. “Something about Mauraders in Vanaheim.”

He sighed. “He sent Sif and the warriors to deal with that.”

“Maybe they need help,” she suggested.

“Rescuing them is Thor’s job.”

“Well, he’s busy with Jane. Perhaps your father wants to let you have a try at diplomatic relations.”

“Lovely. The heir is busy so I get his left overs.”

Syn made no attempt to hide her eye rolling. “Either you want him to take you seriously and give you responsibilities. Or your want to lay about, do nothing, and complain about being the forgotten younger son. You cannot have both, darling.”

He scowled at her because she was right and he couldn’t even argue with her. “I used to be able to feel sorry for myself in peace, before you.”

Her lower lip came out in a little pout. “Poor darling. The things you have sacrificed to be with me.” He felt her fingers toying with the ends of his hair. “Whatever can I do to make it up to you?”

“I could make a list,” he murmured, tracing the neckline of her gown. “A detailed one. Perhaps with drawings.”

She laughed. “Go and see your father. I’m going to go up to the work room. I have an enchantment I feel I’m close to a breakthrough on.”

“What is it?” he asked, intrigued.

“A scrying spell that will allow Thor and Jane to speak while in different realms. I’m having remarkable success with mirrors.”

He chuckled and helped her up, bracing her hips with his hands until she was steady on her feet. “Let it never be said you’re not ambitious, Princess.”

“Why thank you, my darling Prince.” 

*

Vanaheim proved to be a rather entertaining experience. Magic ran there rather strongly, but the Marauders who had been attacking various villages in the capital provence were not as familiar with it as some of the more civilized citizens. A few pretty words, a show of strength from Sif, and the magical destruction of an admittedly enormous troll were all it took to cow them into surrender. The slaps on the back and smiles of his comrades were nice, he had to admit, once he convinced himself they were sincerely meant.

He went straight to his father’s study to report on his return. Odin was talking with one of his advisors so Loki lingered by the door, glancing around the room. He took a moment to study the seer’s flame that Syn had wielded when they sent the Destroyer to Earth. It wasn’t until he’d told Odin about it later that he’d learned exactly how much skill that took. Loki had improved his scrying a bit, thanks to his link with Syn, but still couldn’t even attempt to use the massive flame. 

Finally, his father finished his conversation and turned to him. “How fares Vanaheim?” he asked with no preamble.

“Marauders are routed and prisoners are being brought here by Sif and Fandral. Hogun wished to stay and help his people rebuild, I didn’t think you would protest.”

“Of course,” he said, nodding. “Casualties?”

“Very small among our forces, less than a score dead and perhaps twice that in the healing halls. I can send Syn to help with the overflow when we’re done here. I don’t have any numbers on the Vanaheim civilians.” Loki enjoyed these sort of conversations with Odin, though he’d never admit it out loud. Factual, concise. He giving needed information and Odin appreciative, if not grateful for it. He imagined this is what Thor felt when he spoke to him. For Loki, it was still a novelty.

Odin nodded again, thoughtfully. “Did you have fun?” The question sounded casual, almost an after thought, but Loki couldn’t help but wonder if it was a test, or a trap of some sort.

His first instinct, still and always, was to lie. Spin the answer he thought the asker wanted to hear. But, after a moment’s thought, he decided to answer truthfully. “Yes. Their forces were unorganized and cocky and there was little immediate danger to me. I was able to show off a bit and watch morons cower at my tricks. It was fun.”

At that, his father smiled. “Good.”

He couldn’t stop the hiked brow or the slightly incredulous, “Good?”

“Yes. Your assessment of the situation is correct. I’d prefer you enjoy the tasks I send you on, rather than resenting them.” He glanced at Loki askance. “With your brother so preoccupied with his woman, I may need to depend on you for more things.”

Loki was so flabbergasted he couldn’t speak. He was fairly certain his mouth opened and closed a few times like a fish. Finally, he recovered enough to say, “It would be my pleasure.”

Odin nodded, then glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “If you made an honest woman of the Alfan, she could help, as well.”

He groaned. “Not you, too.”

His father shrugged. “Your mother requested I poke a bit.”

“What do you think of it?” Loki asked after a moment, uncertain whether he truly wanted his father’s opinion or not.

Odin didn’t bother to hide his surprise at being asked. “I think it’s your life, your choice. She’s a good girl, her father is a good friend and ally. And she seems to put up with you far better than anyone else I know. But if you don’t want to marry her-”

“It’s not that I don’t want to. I’m just. . . It’s very permanent.”

His father pointed at Loki’s arm, where the rune that symbolized his bond with Syn lay hidden under his leathers. “It’s my understanding that ship has sailed, boy.”

Fair point. “And it was something she had very little say in. It was bond with me or die on a strange planet far from home, with no chance of rescue. It was not a choice.”

“Marrying you would be. What does the princess think of it?”

“She seems to want her mother to stop nagging her. Otherwise, I’m not entirely sure.”

Odin stepped forward and clapped him on the shoulder. “Well then, seems like you’re having this conversation with the wrong person.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to thank my awesome beta SweetTea for her work on the last chapter. So double thanks to her now!
> 
> And thanks to all the commenters and those who stuck through the hiatus. I love you all.

He was dreaming. He knew he was dreaming, which was the only thing that kept the utter panic at bay.

He was back on the barren, desolate rock he had found himself on after his fall. The Other was there, as he had been the first time. The eyeless, hooded creature who filled Loki’s head with whispered promises while cutting his flesh with red hot knives.

This time it was not Loki strapped to the stone table, but Syn, wrapped in enchanted chains that dug into her limbs, drawing blood. Loki was frozen, unable to go to her, as the Other drew closer, knives in his hands. “Your services are needed,” the creature hissed. “You will do as you’re told.”

“My answer is, and always has been, no.” And it had been. No matter the pain they had inflicted, he had been unwilling to agree to the mad Titan’s plans. He supposed, eventually, with enough torment, he would have broken. Everyone had a breaking point. But Syn and the others had arrived well before that point, so he hadn’t needed to test the theory.

One of the knives began a slow descent towards Syn’s stomach. “Last time, we lacked the proper motivation. We know your weakness clearly now.” The red hot tip touched her skin and the dream version of her howled.

Just a dream, he reminded himself. Not real.

“Harm her and I will exact vengeance upon you that will make even your master weep.” It was not an idle threat. 

“We will have your cooperation. Even if we must purchase it with her blood.”

“ _No!_ ”

Loki awoke suddenly, opening his eyes to see his darkened bedroom, moonlight pouring through the window. Syn lay at his side, back to him, her breath soft and slow in the silence. He sat up slowly, rubbing a hand over his face and through his hair as if he could wipe away the dream. Next to him, Syn shifted and rolled to face him, eyes half open and bleary.

“I woke you,” he murmured.

“Your dreams are loud,” she told him, voice slurring a bit with sleep. She propped herself up on an arm. “The same as before?”

He nodded, conjuring himself a glass of water to sip. “They’re growing more frequent again. For a time I thought they might stop.”

She reached out and touched his leg through the bed clothes. “Trauma has to be processed or it will fester, like any wound. No one expects you to be completely healed.”

He gave a little noise of disdain. “I’m fine.”

“Of course you are,” she replied immediately, an indulgent smile of her face. “I never suggested otherwise.”

He tried to hold out, but it was impossible not to smile back at her. He set his water glass down and reached for her, cupping her cheek and stroking down her throat. “Come to think of it. I do feel rather out of sorts.”

The smile widened and she shifted closer to him. “Are you? Do you need comforting?” She slid a leg over his and he cupped her waist, bracing her as she leaned in to kiss him. “Are you feeling comforted?”

“Mmm. Somewhat.” He stroked his hands down her back, tugging her closer. “But the nightmare still lingers.”

“We can’t have that.” She kissed him again, deeper, pushing him back into the pillows. Loki sighed, all thought of blades and aliens and dark days pushed far away.

*

Thor returned from Midgard a few days later, once Jane was safely moved and buried in her work. Loki joined him on a trip to Vanaheim to see Hogun and inspect the repairs and rebuilding from the Marauder attack. Loki wasn’t one for country living, but he had to admit there was a certain kind of pleasant peacefulness to be found in the forests of Vanaheim. 

He wandered a bit on his own while Thor and Hogun caught up and surveyed the town. Repairs did seem to be going well, at least. He came across a group hauling a beam up to fix the roof of a house and used a pulse of magic to help them lift it. He got a few nods of thanks in response and returned them graciously. He could get used to being the hero, he supposed. Not in the way Thor was, with the grand gestures and cheering crowds. But in the shadows, quietly working behind the scenes. Being the puppet master, as Syn had put it once. He’d known a long time he didn’t see the world the way others did. Perhaps it was time to embrace the differences instead of struggling to change them.

On his way back to rejoin his brother he felt a surge in the river of magic he shared with Syn. He had long grown used to the little flickers and tugs that was her using small amounts. They both used magic casually, to dress or travel or retrieve objects. Things that were noticeable to the other, but by no means draining. They had a phenomenal amount of power between them, minor spells were easily absorbed.

This was different. This was something major. There was a desperation in her usage, as if she’d torn down a dam and was letting their magic flood her. That indicated an emergency. Danger. 

He ran, sprinting through the town until he reached Thor and Hogun. He stumbled the last few feet. “Home. We need to go. Something’s wrong. Syn-ah!” He staggered and Thor had to catch at his arms to keep him upright. 

“Loki, what is it?”

He shook his head, chest tight, unable to speak. The magic had cut off abruptly. Syn was no longer using it, but she was also no longer visible to him. Since the bond had been formed he had been able to sense her. A warm gold glow at one end of the river. He knew from their talks she felt the same, could see him as a green flame. It allowed them to find each other, to sense the other’s mood. Now it was gone. The gold glow had snuffed out or was hidden from his view.

Something must have shown on his face because Thor stopped asking questions, simply tipping his head back and calling for Heimdall. In an instant, they were at the Bifrost gate. Loki found his voice and turned to the gatekeeper. “Where is she?” he rasped. “Syn. Is she in your sight?”

The big warrior shook his head slowly. “She was in your shrouded tower all morning.”

With a thought Loki brought Thor and himself to the parlor he shared with Syn. It was in shambles, the furniture toppled and broken. There were scorches on the wall, impacts of magical blasts. Her chair was shattered as if struck by a great blow. Next to the wreckage he saw her necklace, the orb cracked and colorless.

Thor moved away to inspect the room, looking for clues. It was a good idea. One Loki would have thought of if he was capable of thought at all. He found his legs would no longer carry him and he sank to his knees, gripping the heavy arm of his own chair for balance.

A little squawk came from beside him and he peered under the chair to see Syn’s cat cowering there. “Dragon,” he whispered. “Come here, beastie.” She crawled forward hesitantly, slinking out from under the chair to walk in his lap. He sank his fingers into her fur. “What happened, pet?”

“Loki.” Thor’s voice rumbled at him over his right shoulder and he turned to find his brother holding a note and a very familiar knife. He held the note out to Loki and he took it with a shaking hand.

_The object for your woman. Do not disappoint._

Loki’s breath came fast and shallow. If they thought to use her to threaten him, to coerce him into doing their bidding, then they had greatly underestimated him. He would lay siege on them, as she had once done. Rescue her and slaughter anyone-

Thor was still watching him, concern obvious on his face. Loki tried to get himself under control. They would expect him to fight. Would keep Syn well hidden and likely hurt her if needed. She would want him to remain calm. To work with his father and brother. To find a way to do this without risking his own life or the safety of the realms.

He blew out a slow, shaky breath and stood, Dragon tucked under one arm. “We need to talk to Father.”

*

“What object does he want?” Odin asked when Loki and Thor had finished telling him of Syn’s abduction.

“He called it the tesseract,” Loki said. “He said it was on Earth.”

Odin shook his head. “The tesseract was lost centuries ago. Before either of you were born.”

“Was it, perhaps, lost on Earth?” he persisted.

His father humphed cryptically and paced the length of the anteroom they were in. Loki would have preferred somewhere he could sit, he was still off balance from the abrupt changes in the bond between him and Syn. But the Allfather liked to pace his problems out and Loki was hardly one to judge.

“What is the tesseract?” Thor asked. “And why would this- this-”

“Titan,” Loki supplied. 

“Thank you. Why does the Titan want it?”

Odin shook his head, still pacing. “It’s a relic. Hasn’t been used since my father’s day. It’s purpose has been lost -”

“It makes portals.” They turned to look at Loki. “What do you think I do in the library all the time? There’s books there. If you _open_ them-”

“Loki,” his father said warningly.

“It can create doors. Between one world and any other. Realms and worlds far beyond the Bifrost.”

“Why is that so important?” Thor asked. “You and Syn can do that.”

Loki looked over at Odin. “It’s also said to be one of the Infinity Gems.”

His father waved a hand. “That’s a myth.”

“Midgardians used to think we were myths. I find it unwise to dismiss such things out of hand.”

Thor sighed in the way he did when Loki was talking about something he couldn’t follow. “Infinity Gems?”

Loki tried to sound apologetic when he responded. He’d gotten too used to Syn following every odd train of thought he had. “The six Infinity Gems are said to be objects of great power that, when brought together, form a weapon called the Infinity Gauntlet.”

“And what does that do?”

“Supposedly, it allows you to control reality itself. Bend and shape it to your will.”

They were all silent a moment. “It’s merely conjecture,” Odin said. “It’s never been accomplished.”

“Thanos was willing to torture me for months in an effort to force me to retrieve the tesseract,” Loki replied. “Now he’s kidnapped a princess of the realms for the same purpose. He obviously believes it to be possible.”

“In any case, we can’t give him the tesseract, we don’t even know where on Earth it is.”

Loki’s mouth thinned out and he forced himself not to respond. Apparently, he forced himself so loudly both his father and brother heard, because they both turned to stare at him.

“You know where is it.” Thor didn’t even pretend it was a question.

“I was tortured for six months over it, of course I made a point to find it.” Technically, Syn had found it. In her quest for him, she had managed to master every finding spell in the library. The irony of Thanos using her as a pawn instead of a tool wasn’t lost on him.

“Where is it?” his father bit out. Amicable as their relationship was, Loki still enjoyed the fact he could exasperate him so easily.

He glanced at Thor. “We may need to have an awkward conversation with your SHIELD friends.”

*

“So where is tall, blond and godly lately?”

Jane Foster stifled a sigh and glanced at Darcy. “He said he had some sort of family emergency.”

Her intern’s mouth pursed a little. “You’re not concerned about that?”

“Should I be?” Jane smacked the sensor in her hand but the readings it gave off continued to make no sense. “Turn here.”

Darcy turned the car obediently. “He’s a god, right? Don’t their family squabbles usually end in plagues and locusts? Or big metal things destroying towns.”

“Last time was a fight. This is an emergency. Something about his brother’s girlfriend going missing.” That sounded crass. She should sound more concerned about this. “He said they were handling it, but he’d be busy.” Though now that she was thinking of it, maybe she should check if this was a common occurrence in Asgard. She didn’t really have time to be kidnapped. The sensor went nuts and she sat up. “Stop here.”

The car screeched to a halt in front of an abandoned warehouse in a really terrible part of town. Darcy ducked her head, peering out the window at the building. “Seriously?”

“This is where the readings are coming from,” Jane said, aware she sounded both mystified and defensive. The two of them stared at the building a moment, then she grabbed the handle of her door and shoved it open. “Come on.” 

She was surprised to find a gaggle of kids playing there. She was even more surprised at the little magic trick they showed her. Up on the top floor of the warehouse, one of the kids leaned over and dropped a can down to the ground. Only to have it disappear before it hit the floor. And then reappear above them, falling down towards the ground floor and repeat the cycle again. 

It was impossible. Should have been utterly impossible. Yet she was watching it happen and the readings on her sensor were going crazy. Darcy went running off with the kids to find more things to throw into the . . . portal? Rift? Jane would need a lot more readings and some repeatable experiments before she could be sure.

While the others were distracted, she made her way further into the building, watching the readings on her monitor spike. There was something else going on here, even bigger than the portal. Jane was already making a list of all the sensors she would need in here. Maybe she could track down Eric, wherever he was. He’d be beside himself at this.

There was the sensation of wind and then she was falling, arms pinwheeling at her sides. The world around her blurred. When she hit the ground she wasn’t in the factory anymore, but on a slab of rock somewhere dark and subterranean.

Jane slowly got to her feet. She was still gripping her sensor, but it was blank. No readings. Not even a blip. “Darcy?” she called hesitantly. The air seemed to swallow up the word. She swallowed hard. “Kids? Anyone?”

There was the faintest sound of whispering behind her and her shoulders tightened protectively in response. She turned slowly and came face to face with a tall pillar that seemed to glow faintly red. Everything in her told her to leave it alone and work on getting the hell out of wherever she was. And yet she found herself stepping closer to it, drawn to the glow.

If she peered close, she thought she could make out engravings on the pillar. The red glow shifted and moved within the pillar. It was almost as though it were alive. Against her will, she lifted a hand and touched the pillar.

Something hot and crackling ripped up her arm. She was thrown back and everything went black.


	16. Chapter 16

Loki rubbed his aching eyes and slammed shut the book he had been attempting to read. He had looked through what seemed like every book in the library trying to find a way to get to Syn. She had kept copious notes in her quest for him, which had been an excellent spring board. The difference now was that Thanos would know he was looking. Obviously, he had set up some way to hide her. No matter what he did he couldn’t track her.

He was afraid he might be going a little mad. The bond between them was fraying. He couldn’t explain how he knew it, but he did. His magic hadn’t changed. He could access it if needed and was as strong as he had been before linking with her. But he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that they were not supposed to be this far apart for this long. He had no idea what would happen to him if it finally snapped.

The humans had, naturally, refused to give up the tesseract. He hadn’t expect them to just hand it over. They had, at least, pretended at sympathy. Didn’t mean they were going to _help_ in any appreciable way but the condolences had been quite touching.

It left him back at square one, with time running out. There had been no more word from Thanos. No threats. No images of Syn in peril. But he knew the Titan was not a patient creature. It had been over a week. Demands would start coming soon. Followed, most likely, by body parts of the only woman in the realms he had ever loved. If he wasn’t going mad already, that would certainly do it.

The doors of the library crashed open and Thor stormed inside. The library had no windows to the outside in an effort to protect the books from the elements, but based on his brother’s posture and stride, Loki imagined a rather impressive storm was raging outside.

“She’s gone,” Thor said as he reached the table. “I need your help.”

Loki blinked at him, wondering if he was having some bizarre form of deja vu. “Who is?”

“Jane. Heimdall says he can no longer see her. She’s shrouded, just as Syn is.”

Everything inside Loki went very still. Was Thanos simply going to collect his family’s loved ones until something gave? It made no sense to take Jane, Loki had only met her a handful of times and, while he appreciated that she made Thor happy, he had no particular attachment to her. There were many far more effective bargaining chips. It made no sense, and yet Loki was not a believer in coincidences. “When?”

“Recently. He checks on her for me when I’m away. She was well this morning and now she’s gone.”

Loki stood. “Come on. We should go to where she was last seen. If I’m going to track her, it’s best to start there.”

Thor fell into step beside him as they left the library, heading for the Bifrost. “Do you think this is connected to Thanos?”

“I have no idea. For now, let’s assume it is. I doubt he’s able to track our movements. If he thinks I’m working alone, he may be trying to rope you into it. Or simply wants to increase his arsenal of pawns against me. Not enough to hold Syn’s safety over my head. Now he has your happiness as well.”

His brother glanced at him. “Is my happiness so important to you, then?”

He pressed a hand to his chest in mock hurt. “How can you suggest otherwise?”

Thor smiled. “Love’s made us soft, brother.”

Truer words never spoken. Though, in his case, it was likely for the best. He didn’t want to imagine what he would become if he never saw Syn again.

The Bifrost dropped them on Midgard in an industrial area full of worn and rundown factories and warehouses. Loki wrinkled his nose, looking around. “This is where your woman was last?”

Before Thor could answer, a young brunette woman bundled in a coat came running out of one of the building. “Oh my God, you’re here. Literally.”

Thor braced the girl with his free hand as she reached them. “Darcy. Where’s Jane?”

Her mouth turned down into a pouting little frown. “Rats. I was hoping she was with you.” She seemed to notice Loki then and the frown shifted to a wide smile. “Hello.”

Remembering his manners, Thor gestured to him. “Loki, this is Jane’s assistant, Darcy. Darcy, my brother, Loki of Asgard.”

The smile disappeared. “Oh. The one with the girlfriend.”

He was momentarily too flummoxed to respond, giving Thor the opportunity to remind the girl why they were there, “Why did you think Jane was with me?”

She shrugged, spreading her hands. “She just disappeared. We were in the warehouse, experimenting on the weirdness when she wandered off and-”

Loki held up a hand. “Weirdness?”

Her teeth caught at her lower lip. “Yeah. I’d better show you.”

They lined up along the balcony rail and watched the crushed bit of metal Darcy had thrown disappear and reappear in mid air, over and over. Eventually, Thor turned and looked at Loki expectantly. He blinked at him. “What?”

Thor gestured to the disappearing can. “Explain.”

“I am flattered that when you see something inexplicable you assume I know the answer off the top of my head. Truly, I’m touched. But this-” He waved his hand. “Is beyond me. Offhand I’d say it’s falling through a portal of some sort but I have no clue as to why it’s reappearing five feet above our heads. Portals don’t, in general, just appear in the middle of nowhere for no reason.”

His brother looked back at the little human. “You said Jane wandered off? Where?” She pointed to their left. Thor gave Loki a meaningful look and headed that way.

Well, what choice did he have but to follow the big oaf. “Be careful,” he said. “If you wander wherever she has, I can’t promise I’ll be able to find you any easier than I can find. . .” Awareness prickled along his arms, raising the hair like static. He reached out and caught his brother’s arm. “Stop.”

Thor froze immediately. Later, Loki would take a moment to appreciate the trust his brother seemed to have in him. For now, he dipped into his pool of magic and filled the air in front of him with a revealing spell. The air flickered with green-gold light. It coalesced into a rough oval a few feet ahead. The previously invisible portal snapped into sharp relief, the land beyond it barren and red tinged. Loki could make out a slab of rock with an obelisk on it. The carvings on the pillar were vaguely familiar. Next to the pillar was some sort of metal box with knobs and wires. The sort of thing a Midgardian scientist might use.

He glanced at Thor to find his brother’s breathing had changed, grown rough and panicky. Hesitantly, Loki touched his arm. “We’ll find her. Both of them. I swear it.”

*

She was being carried somewhere.

It was the first thought Jane had when she started to regain consciousness. Two people were holding her arms and have carrying, half dragging her somewhere. She vaguely recalled the warehouse and the portal. The pillar with the strange red glow. Now she was being taken somewhere.

Not good.

She forced her eyes open to find herself in a hallway. It looked as if it was carved from rock, but the floor and walls were far smoother than the word ‘carved’ indicated. Wherever she was, she didn’t recognize it, or the people holding her. She tried to tug one of her arms free and her captor hissed, sounding far too much like a snake for her comfort. 

There was more hissing, then the creature on the other side of her hissed back. Then they were shoving her through a doorway and slamming a heavy metal door closed behind her.   
Jane hit the stone floor hard on her hands and knees. “Wait.” She tried to scramble to her feet and lurched towards the door. “Where am I? What’s going on?” She pressed against the door but didn’t hear anything on the other side. “Hello?”

There was a metallic scraping noise behind her and she froze, hands pressed flat to the door. Holy hell, what had they locked her in with? She’d been enough places with Thor to know there were all manner of creatures in the universe that would happily use her as a snack. She tried to breathe. _Think, Jane._ She still had her bag. Maybe there was something in there she could use to fight. Hadn’t Darcy given her a stun gun last month?

Slowly, trying not to draw attention to herself, she slid her hand down into her bag and closed it around the little plastic box. Her breath came out in a rush as another scraping noise broke the silence.

_Okay. On three, turn around and fry the sucker. One. . . two. . ._

“Jane?”

She whirled around to find herself sharing a cell with a tall, slender woman with a mess of tangled brown hair wearing a dirty green gown. Jane stared a moment, trying to remember her name. “Syn?”

Her face split into a grin. “You remember me. I’m flattered.” Her tone was warm and dry, with a slightly different accent than Thor’s. More clipped and precise. Jane had only met her once, maybe twice, and the first time she’d been in mourning for Thor’s brother. She had no idea what she thought of her dating Thor. Jane wasn’t sure what any of Thor’s family thought of her, come to think of it. Except for his father, who’d compared her to a barn animal.

 Still, the other woman was familiar and almost certainly an ally against whatever the hell was going on. So Jane lurched towards her and hugged her. Syn was obviously surprised at the embrace, but wrapped her arms around her, patting her in what was probably supposed to be comfort. “What are you doing here?”

Jane leaned back. “I have no idea. I was in London and there was an anomaly and I followed the readings. Then I was somewhere entirely different and there was a red glowy pillar that zapped me and when I woke up, two hissing things were shoving me in this room.” She frowned, suddenly realizing something. “What are _you_ doing here? Are we in Asgard?”

Syn shook her head. “No. We’re in a place between the realms. I don’t know if it had a proper name. I was taken as a pawn to use against Loki.”

“Taken - Oh, God, of course. You’re the family emergency. You’ve been missing almost a week.”

The other woman smiled thinly. “It’s felt much longer.” She rubbed idly at her left arm, as if it pained her. “Hopefully that’s done with now. Together we should be able to find a way out of here.”

Yes, that was good. That sounded like a plan. “Are you - Thor says you and Loki are sorcerers. Why haven’t you just poofed your way out?”

“The room is warded. Anti magic. Thanos and his ilk don’t seem to have magic of their own, but they know how to dampen it.” She seemed to notice Jane’s bag for the first time. “Is there anything useful in there?”

Jane glanced down. “Oh. Yes.” Together they crouched and she opened the cloth satchel for Syn to rummage through. “Why did he take me?”

Syn was sorting through the things in Jane’s purse, inspecting them carefully. “I don’t know. You said something about a red pillar?”

“Yes. On a rock. It had carvings on it and a light from within. And for some reason, I really wanted to touch it.” 

Syn had found the TASER and hit the button, making it crackle. Jane felt something surge inside her and a blast of darkness came out of her chest, striking the weapon out of the other woman’s hand. They both watched it skid across the floor, then Syn turned back to her, eyes wide.

Jane felt like she couldn’t catch her breath, chest tight and full. “Wha-” she gasped.

Very slowly, Syn reached out and took one of her hands, turning it over. She pushed up Jane’s sleeve and pressed a thumb into the soft skin of her forearm. Dark red light seemed to ripple around her thumb, shifting under Jane’s skin like it had in the pillar.

The other woman’s face was grim as she lifted her gaze to Jane’s. “Oh, Jane Foster,” she said softly. “What have you done?”

*

“What do you mean there’s nothing you can do?” Thor roared, pacing the length of his brother’s study. The broken furniture had been removed but not replaced, leaving the turret looking oddly barren. Loki sat in his oversized chair, Syn’s cat tucked at his side, purring beneath his petting hand.

“If I could travel to his realm and rescue wenches, don’t you think I would have done it already?” Loki snapped.

Thor made an effort to calm himself. Jane had been missing a scant few hours. Loki had been separated from his woman for a week. He stopped his pacing and glanced around, but other than the chair his brother occupied, there was nowhere viable to sit. With a sigh, Loki gestured and a chaise materialized opposite him. It was obviously stolen from some parlor or another, but Thor sank onto it gratefully. He braced his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands. “What do we do?”

Loki stroked the cat’s tri-color fur in silence a moment. “The way I see it, there are three options. One, Jane’s disappearance has nothing to do with Thanos or Syn. That pillar we witnessed through the portal did something to her, transported her somewhere, for reasons beyond our knowing.”

“I imagine that is a worst case scenario,” Thor muttered, lifting his head.

Loki nodded in agreement. “Two, Thanos took Jane for the same reason he took Syn, in an effort to get me - or, more precisely, us - to retrieve the tesseract for him. And three, Thanos took her for an entirely different reason, likely to do with said pillar.”

Thor was certain he was supposed to find comfort in there somewhere. “Where does that leave us?”

His brother tipped his head back, giving him an odd smile. “Well, it strikes me that two thirds of our options leave Syn and Jane in the same place and able to find each other. And if _your_ woman and _my_ woman manage to join forces. . . well, I rather pity Thanos. Don’t you?”


	17. Chapter 17

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Jane asked, tying one end of her bootlace to a metal hook in their cell wall.

Syn was on the other end of the shoelace, tying it to another hook on the other side of the cell door. “Accurate prediction of the future has never been reliably proven, even to someone of my power. So, no, I’m not certain this is going to work. It is, however, more likely to get us out of here than sitting around.”

Well, Jane couldn’t argue with that. She brushed her knees off as she stood. “So once we’re out of the cell, then what? Can you just poof us out of here?”

“Assuming only the cell is warded, I should be able to access my magic. However, ‘poofing’ is slightly more complicated than the word would imply.” Syn moved back to Jane’s bag and pulled out the disposable camera and the TASER. She handed Jane the TASER, keeping the camera for herself. “We’ll need to figure out where, exactly, we are. Then I can determine a means of getting us home.”

“It seems like this plan isn’t particularly fleshed out,” Jane said hesitantly.

Syn’s smile was anything but reassuring. “In my experience, terrible plans have a surprisingly high success rate.” She flattened herself against the wall next to the door and nodded to Jane. “Ready?”

“Why do I have to do the screaming?” she asked.

“Because I’m a pawn and if I get injured, it will only be more incentive for Loki to do what they want. If he wanted you dead, you would be. I suspect that you need to be alive for him to harvest whatever energy you’re carrying. I also suspect you will not enjoy said harvesting.” Jane had noticed Syn was kind of terrible at being reassuring. “He has a reason to keep you safe. So. Start screaming.”

With a sigh, she obeyed, screaming at the top of her lungs like someone in a hockey mask was chasing her in the woods. She didn’t bother with words, figuring it would just sound stupid. Straight up terrorized shrieks seemed more efficient.

After a few seconds the door opened and one of the hooded guards charged in, promptly tripping on the bootlace. Jane stopped yelling and jumped forward to taze him. There was a second guard on his heels. Syn lifted the camera, blinding him with the flash. As he staggered she caught his arm, preventing him from swinging his weapon, and slammed a bare foot into his solar plexus. 

The blow sent him flying out the door, sword jarred out of his hand. Syn went after him, stepping out of the cell and into the wide hallway. She froze for an instant and Jane swore she saw a ripple of gold light pass over the woman. Then Syn lifted a hand, palm out at the guard, and a blast of light sent him into the opposite wall, head making a sickening thunk as he hit.

Jane gingerly stepped over the electrified guard and into the smooth stone hallway. She opened her mouth to ask what next but Syn held up a finger, head tilted like she was listening to something. Jane tried to hear whatever the other woman was focusing on, but she couldn’t pick out anything in the still air.

Finally, Syn shook her head. “I don’t believe poofing will be an option.”

Disappointment choked her, thick and sour. “Are you sure?”

“I have many skills and specialties but interrealm travel isn’t one of my strengths. If Loki were here, he could do it, but I can’t even contact him.” She rubbed idly at her arm again. “We’ll have to figure out another way.”

Jane ran a hand through her hair. “Great. All right. They brought us here somehow, right? So can we reverse that process?”

Syn’s eyes widened and her mouth curved up into a wide smile. “Yes. Yes, we could. We just need to find it.” She rubbed the back of her head, turning in a circle as if the answer would be somewhere in the hallway. Finally, she looked back at Jane. “If you were going to travel between realms, what would you need?”

Jane held her hands up. “Whoa, whoa. I don’t know anything about interrealm travel. Well, I know about the Einstein-Rosen bridge which is basically the Bifrost but it’s not like I was able to _replicate_ it because none of you people seem to know how it actually-” She broke off when Syn waved her hand for attention. “Sorry.”

She actually smiled.“It’s fine. We speak the same language, just different dialects. You deal in science. I only know magic. The creatures here don’t have magic, so they must do it your way. I can find just about anything, that is one of my strengths. But I need to know what I’m looking for. So, if you were going to use your science to travel from realm to realm, what would you need? Equipment? Fuel?”

Kind of a tall order, but she did her best. And over the next ten minutes, they crouched in the hallway and Jane used every writing implement in her bag, including her lipstick and brow pencil, to sketch out the equipment she would use to build an Einstein-Rosen bridge. Some of it didn’t even exist, the technology decades ahead of anything Earth had. But she made her best guess, picturing a world with unlimited tech and Stark’s budget.

Syn watched her work, asking questions about certain things and clarifying how much detail she needed. Her questions were remarkably astute and Jane thought about what she’d said about them speaking different dialects. She’d once tried to convince Erik that magic and science were one and the same. She still believed that; nothing Thor had shown her had disproved the theory. Except for people like Syn and Thor’s brother. She didn’t know how to scientifically explain someone who could throw someone else into a wall without touching them.

She leaned back to examine her blue prints. “That’s the best I can do. And it would still need an phenomenal amount of power to run. Like, several reactors worth. A small sun might be more likely.”

“Small sun,” Syn murmured, “Is almost certainly likely.” She studied the blue print from every angle, walking around it carefully. “Well,” she said finally. “Here goes nothing.” She held her hands out, palms down, over the drawing. Jane heard her mutter something in a different language, then she flicked her wrists so her palms faced down the hallway. The blue print glowed bright gold. The light coalesced into an orb about the size of a tennis ball and floated up to hover in front of Syn.

She smiled and blew on the ball and it darted down the hallway. Syn scooped up the sword of the fallen guard. “Onward.”

Jane caught her arm. “Wait, what if someone sees us?”

“They’ll see a pair of hooded guards.” She made a little magician’s gesture. “Glamours. Not a specialty of mine, but it should serve us until we find a way out of here. Just don’t talk and try not to look nervous.” She tugged her arm free. “Come on.”

*

In his darkened bedroom in the Asgardian palace, Loki sat up right. He touched the empty expanse of bed beside him, frowning. For a moment, he’d sworn Syn was with him. He knew it was impossible, he was no closer to finding her than he had been days ago. But he’d heard her voice quite clearly. Though now, of course, he couldn’t remember what she had been saying.

Deep in his chest, he felt an odd fluttering. Looking within, he was stunned to find flickers of gold returning to the river of magic. When he tried to follow it to her, he still found her blocked from his sight. But could _feel_ her. It was as if she was in a different room and someone had opened a door. He hadn’t found her yet, but he had a better sense of where she was.  
 He pushed against the barrier between them, sending magic to her. There was no response and he hadn’t expected one. But he had some hope that she’d felt him as he could now feel her. And perhaps that connection might help her in whatever she was doing.

Though it was nowhere near dawn, he still climbed from his bed and dressed. He wanted to be able to monitor any more changes in the river. He hoped, for Thor’s sake, that Jane had gone where Syn was. The sudden changes coinciding with her disappearance seemed to indicate it was possible. And that he had been right about the women being a formidable team.

*

They passed two groups of guards as they followed the little ball of magic through the hallways. Each time, Jane thought her heart was going to beat out of her chest. But she kept pace with Syn, stared straight ahead, and no one seemed to give them a second glance. Syn, for her part, seemed utterly unruffled at the close calls.

The tall sorceress’ calm was soothing to Jane’s nerves. Maybe being kidnapped and escaping from an evil lair was common place for her. If so, Jane was really going to have to have a chat with Thor. Her work would suffer if she was getting abducted every six months.

Her rumination on becoming a damsel in distress was a interrupted by a sudden surge of crackling energy rising in her chest. It choked off her air and she staggered, going to her knees. Syn caught her, braced her upright. “What is it?” 

Jane couldn’t breathe, couldn’t take in enough air to answer. The power felt like it was filling her up, pushing organs out of its way. Her pulse was pounding in her ears. A concerned line appeared between Syn’s brows as she studied her. Jane’s vision was starting to blur when the other woman put a hand to her chest. 

Soothing heat filled her, pushing the cracking power down. Her lungs filled and she sucked in air for a few minutes, sagging against Syn. The other woman stroked her hair soothingly, letting her rest on her shoulder. “Calm,” she told her. “Deep breaths. In and out.”

When she could talk again, she sat up. “What’s happening to me?”

Syn put her hand over Jane’s heart and she felt that warm glow again. “The energy inside you must have reacted to something. Did you feel threatened?”

She shook her head. “No. We were just walking.”

The sorceress looked around, frowning. Something caught her eye and she eased Jane back to lean on the wall behind her. “I’ll be right back,” she assured her, standing. She glanced around to make sure they were alone before striding across the hall and peer into an open doorway. Jane couldn’t see anything from her spot but whatever Syn found there seemed to concern her.

She came back to Jane’s side and crouched. “Can you walk? We need to get out of here.”

The little ball of gold light came back to hover nearby while Syn hauled Jane to her feet. She wasn’t entirely stable, so Syn kept an arm around her, supporting her as they hurried down the hall. Two more turns and the ball hovered in front of metal blast doors. Syn shoved them open with a combination of magic and brute force.

Inside was a room full of machines that strongly resembled the things Jane had drawn earlier. It also held several hooded creatures who all turned to stare when they came. Syn propped Jane by the doors and took the closest creature out by throwing her sword.

The others attacked and Syn met them with a blaze of gold magic. Gathering her senses, Jane staggered towards the equipment. Some of it was familiar, some far beyond anything she’d ever seen before. It certainly seemed like the right stuff to make a wormhole, but she couldn’t read the alien language used on the screens. 

Using a combination of instinct, guesswork, and luck, she started turning on machines, getting them warmed up to make a portal.

Syn sent the last of the guards or scientists or whatever they were through the open blast door and raced to close them. She fumbled for a lock for a moment, then pointed to a cabinet on one wall. “Is that useful?” she called to Jane.

Jane shook her head after glancing at it, before going back to trying to interpret the dials on what she hoped was the destination console. She jumped when said cabinet flew across the room to block the door. Syn joined her at the console. She was bleeding from a wound above her eye. As Jane watched, the other woman wiped blood off with her thumb and a shimmer of gold sealed the wound. “Problems?” she asked when it was gone.

Jane shook herself and looked back at the dials. “I can’t read this. I think if we can input a destination we can get a portal formed and be out of here. But none of this makes any sense.”

Syn studied the dials a moment. “These are runes. I know them. Some of them.” Jane stepped aside so she could fiddle with the controls.

Something heavy slammed against the doors from the other side. They both jumped and glanced at the doors. Jane felt the crackling energy try to rise up and did her best to fight it. “What is that?”

“Probably Thanos, alerted to our breakout finally.” Syn looked at her and her eyes widened. “You’ve gone all red.”

Jane looked at her hands to find them veined with the red-black light of the pillar. “I think. . . I think it’s trying to protect me?”

“Or he calls to it,” Syn said grimly. She bent over the console again. Her fingers spun the last dial and the machine to their left whirred to life. Syn caught her arm as a vortex began to form in the center of the room. “That should take us to Asgard,” she called over the gathering wind.

“How certain are you?”

“As certain as I’ve been about everything else.” As responses went, that wasn’t entirely reassuring. Syn steered her towards it. “Go on. I’m right behind you. I’m going to try to disable the equipment as I jump. Slow them down.”

“That might destabilize the portal,” Jane said as another blow hit the doors. “You could end up anywhere. Or nowhere!”

The other woman’s mouth was set in a grim line. “Either is preferable to being here or having them follow at our heels.” She shoved her towards the vortex. “Go. I’ll be fine.”

Hesitating one last moment, Jane took two steps forward and leapt into the swirling wind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I was writing this I referred to the Syn/Jane team up as Team Magitech. And, to be honest, Part 4 mostly exists so the two of them could play together.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is self edited.
> 
> I am going to try to move up to a two times a week schedule. Check back on Tuesday to see if I've succeeded :)

Loki didn’t believe in premonitions. Or, rather, he acknowledged the possibility of the phenomena, but had never personally experienced it. If foresight was possible, he didn’t imagine he held the talent for it. Still, he’d spent the morning unsettled and anxious, as if waiting for something to happen. He’d attempted keep Thor company but found it best to retire to his study after a while. Neither of them were in the best of moods and he didn’t feel like getting into a fist fight with his distraught brother on top of everything else that was going on.

Dragon, too, seemed out of sorts; winding through his legs and yowling at the top of her lungs. He finally coaxed her into his lap and found some solace in petting her. “I’m sure she’ll be home soon,” he told the cat. “Though which of us she’ll be happier to see I’m not sure.” The cat bumped her head into his hand, purring audibly. “Look at us. I’m talking to an animal and you’re pretending to like me. Madness all around.”

She suddenly stiffened, then leapt off his lap and instant before his magic flared up inside him. He gasped out loud, pressing a hand to his chest as if to ease a physical pain. He focused inward and found the river of magic vibrant with gold, Syn’s spark flaming brightly at the other end. With barely a thought he reached for her, letting their magic sweep him along.

 He found himself outside, on the rainbow bridge to the Bifrost gate. A few yards away were two figures. He recognized Syn immediately, crouching over another woman. It took him scarce seconds to recognize the prone figure as Jane Foster. With a flick of his hand he brought Thor at his side, then started towards the women. “Syn.”

She looked up, saw him, and her face spilt into a grin. Despite her tangled hair and generally bedraggled appearance, she was the most beautiful woman in all the realms at that moment. She glanced down at Jane again, who was starting to stir. Just before he reached them, Syn stood and launched herself at him.

He caught her, lifting her off the ground with his embrace. She was warm and alive and _here_. Thor pushed past them on his way to Jane, but Loki couldn’t care less. An army of Jotuns could have swarmed around him and he wouldn’t have let her go. She had her face pressed into his shoulder and he was fairly certain she was crying. He had half a mind to join her, so relieved was he.

Thor had scooped Jane up in his arms. The human seemed a bit more rattled than Syn, still gathering her wits. Deciding his brother had her well in hand, he refocused on Syn, leaning back to smooth her hair away from her face. “Are you all right?’

She sniffled and nodded, still smiling broadly. “At this particular moment I don’t believe I’ve ever been better.”

The sound of her voice brought a new wave of relief. He grinned at her, then cupped her face in his hands and kissed her.

It seemed like fireworks should have gone off around them. As it was, their magic sparked and swelled between them, the bond alive and strong now that she was back in his arms. He could have happily spent the rest of the day exactly like this, but he could sense Thor hovering at their side. When his brother cleared his throat pointedly he finally lifted his head, tucking Syn against his chest again.

“How did you get here?” Thor rumbled. “Where did you find Jane? And what’s wrong with her?”

Loki tightened his arms around Syn protectively. She shifted to face his brother, managing to stay in as much contact with Loki as possible. “It’s a very long story. They brought her to the same dungeon cell as me. And I’m not entirely sure but I have a theory and testing it can almost certainly wait until I’ve had a bath and a meal.”

By Yggdrasil, he’d missed her. “I imagine Dr. Foster could use the same,” he told Thor pointedly.

His brother was obviously unhappy. He’d never had any patience. His woman shifted in his arms, cuddling closer to him with a murmur. The sign of life seemed to mollify him. “One hour. In your study.”

“Agreed.” And then, because he was in an extraordinarily good mood, he sent the two of them to Thor’s room before whisking Syn and himself to his.

She released him without a word and disappeared into his wash room. A moment later he heard the bath water running and grinned. Apparently, everything was going to wait until she was clean. He couldn’t blame her, but it felt odd to have her out of his sight. As if she might disappear again.

Doing something with himself would make it easier. He took himself to the kitchens to procure a meal for her, then briefly to her room for a change of clothes, choosing a tunic and leggings in the interest of comfort. When he returned to his chambers the washroom door was still closed and he could dimly hear the sound of splashing.

He set down the dinner tray and laid her clothes out on his bed, then sank into his reading chair to wait for her. He briefly considered retrieving Dragon from the library but the little beastie had been hiding last he saw and he felt he deserved to have his reunion first.

After an eternity, he heard the bath drain and a few minutes later the door opened to reveal a very refreshed looking Syn, wrapped in his too-big dressing gown. She took a deep breath, sighing happily as she stepped into the room. “Hello,” she said, beaming at him.

He desperately wanted to know what had happened to her. Where she’d been, how she’d managed to escape with the human in tow. But she was going to tell those stories to Thor in less than an hour and there was little point in making her go over it twice. So he stood and strode towards her without a word.

His intent must have shown on his face because she was holding her arms out for him even as he reached her. Her mouth met his in a hot kiss and he groaned, crushing her against his chest. She smelled of fresh spring rain and citrus, a scent that now meant home and safety to him. Her hair was heavy and damp under his hand, but she must have brushed it out because his fingers stroked through smoothly.

There was nothing sweet or cautious in the kiss or their embrace. Her hands clutched at him, one cupping the back of his head to hold him down to her. Without conscious thought he backed her up two steps, into the wall beside the washroom door. Their magic flared, controlled by both of them and neither, and in an instant their clothes melted away, leaving them bare. His hands swept down her, stroking soft, warm skin. She made a quiet noise in her throat, arching into him.

He cupped his hand under her thighs and lifted, pressing her back into the wall. She gripped his shoulders tightly, long legs winding around his waist. A flicker of magic helped him support her while he snaked a hand between them to stroke her. His fingers found her already slick with desire and he groaned again. He indulged in a few light brushes against her clit, making her squirm against him. Then he pressed her more firmly into the wall and slid between her soft folds, burying himself inside her. He swallowed her little gasp with another searing kiss.

 For a moment, he stayed still, revealing in the feel of her in his arms, wrapped around him. Clichéd as it was, it was like a part of him had been missing and was now returned. He felt the mark on his arm throb in awareness and their magic rippled and pulsed. Her breath was harsh and rough in his ear and he felt her fingers clutch at his back urgently. He hitched her higher and began to move, pressing her into the wall with his thrusts.

It was fast and urgent. She gasped out his name as she came, clenching around him. He buried himself as deep as he could within her, pleasure blurring his vision, blood roaring in his ears.

He sank down to the ground, having enough presence of mind to support her on the way down, settling her on his lap. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her face into his shoulder. “I missed you,” she whispered.

He stroked his hand through her hair, a sense of utter peace settling over him. “Ah, dearest. I missed you, too.” He lifted his head and kissed her mouth tenderly. “I’m immensely proud that you were able to escape. But I do regret my failure in finding you before it was necessary.”

She grinned, looking delighted. “Oh, don’t worry, my love. I’ll let you do the rescuing one of these days.”

They sat in silence for a time, tangled together. When he heard her stomach growl he laughed and shifted her off of his lap, retrieving his dressing gown from wherever the magic had sent it and wrapping it around her. “I brought you supper,” he told her, dressing himself as they both got to their feet. “We still have some time before we’re to meet with Thor and Jane.”

The dinner tray still sat on his side table, kept warm with a simple stasis spell. She went to sit in his reading chair and he caught her around the waist, taking the chair first and tugging her into his lap. She laughed and gave him an indulgent smile before reaching for the tray.

 She ate daintily but eagerly, not pausing to make conversation. She made more erotic noises eating the orange he’d brought for dessert than she had when they’d fucked against the wall. He teased the edge of the dressing gown, wondering if they had time for a second round before his brother came knocking.

Immediately after the bond had formed, when he’d come home from his months in the void, they’d been positively insatiable. Part of it had been relief at his safety and a celebration of their new relationship. But another part had been from the bond itself, finding the most expedient way to cement itself between them. Blood magic tended to be rather primal and earthy and sex was a fundamental way to bond with someone, on a number of levels. Even the rune carved in their arms, uruz, was often associated with sexual energies.

All in all, it had been an immensely pleasant way to spend a few weeks. On the rare occasions they had been apart since, mostly when she’d traveled home or he had joined Thor on Midgard, they had experienced similar, if less potent periods of lust. Now that she was safe in his arms, he was rather looking forward to the next few days.

When she’d finished her food she leaned back against his chest with her cup of tea, sighing in content. He pressed a kiss into her hair, closing his eyes.

“He wanted the tesseract, didn’t he?” she asked softly.

“Still does, I imagine.” He rubbed her back lightly. “Did you see him?”

“Briefly, when they first brought me in. Postured a bit before having me thrown in the dungeon. Didn’t give much away, unfortunately.” She shifted and sat up. “We should go see Thor and Jane. There’s a lot you both need to know.”

*

Everything after jumping into the vortex was blurry. Jane didn’t recall the trip or the landing, though based on the ache in her ribs it could have been smoother. The first thing she was aware of was Thor carrying her somewhere. Then she’d napped some more. Then they joined Syn and Loki in their study to tell the boys everything that had gone on. Syn put a tray of food in front of her before they started and she felt much better with something in her stomach.

Syn had done most of the talking, but Jane had chimed in when it came time to talk about the strange readings on Earth and the red pillar she’d seen. That information seemed to concern both brothers greatly. Especially when Syn had demonstrated the red light that shifted under Jane’s skin.

 Which is how they had all ended up in what Thor had told her was the healing hall with Jane flat on a glowing white table while Syn made odd gestures in the air above her. After a moment a misty, golden duplicate of Jane appeared above her, threaded through with the red light.

She couldn’t help herself, she reached for the image. “Is that a quantum field generator?”

Syn glanced down at her, odd half smile on her face. “We call it a soul forge.”

“Does a soul forge transfer molecular energy from one place to another?”

The other woman tipped her head back and Jane saw her lips move, as if she was repeating the words to herself in an effort to translate them. Finally she nodded. “Yes.”

“Quantum field generator.”

 The half smile tipped up into a full one as she manipulated the image. “We should start a science to magic dictionary. When we have time.”

“Still think it’s a good thing that they get along?” Thor asked.

Loki sighed. “I am starting to see the downside.”

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Syn said, evidently ignoring the men. “It’s energy, but it’s acting like a parasitic creature. Using you as a host.”

Thor made a noise oddly like a growl. When Jane looked over at him she found Loki gripping his brother’s arm tightly. “Syn, dearest, perhaps a little sensitivity.”

“I can’t lie and beating around the bush would only insult Jane’s intelligence. And I’ll need her help if we’re going-”

 “What is going on in here?”

They all turned to the door to find Thor’s father standing there, in imposing black and red armor, looking furious. Thor and Loki immediately moved between the old man and the women. “Father,” Thor said hands up in a placating gesture. “I can explain. Jane was ill-”

 “Why is she even here? And is that Syn with her? Last I heard she was being held hostage.”

“She escaped,” Loki said in a tone that indicated that should have been obvious. “With Dr. Foster.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?”

Jane looked up at Syn, who shook her head in exasperation. “Ignore them, they’ll go on like this for a while. How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” she admitted. “And hungry.” Despite the meal she’d had less than half an hour ago.

Syn closed her fists, turning the images on the soul forge off. “That’s what I was afraid of.” She took Jane’s hand and slid the other under her shoulder to help her up and off the table. “I believe the energy is using you as a host, using your strength to grow stronger. In the mean time, it’s also protecting you from harm. Hence the blast when I set off your little electricity box. If we don’t get it out of you soon it may consume you entirely.”

Jane slid off the table, mind working rapidly. “All right. How do we do that?”

“Therein lies the problem. I don’t even know what it is so-”

“-sending her home immediately.”

Jane turned to see Odin stepping towards her, reaching for her arm. She reeled back even as Syn said, “Sire, I wouldn’t-”

His hand closed on her arm and she felt the crackling heat. A pulse of energy slammed out of her, sending Odin backwards. Syn ducked behind the soul forge but Loki and Thor were both sent reeling.

“-do that,” Syn finished.

The men all stared at Jane as she gasped to catch her breath. Odin slowly got to his feet, shaking Thor’s helping hand off. He approached her slower this time and took her arm gently, the way Syn had. The red light moved like liquid beneath her skin. He looked at her face, then to Syn behind her. “Do you know what this is?” The other woman shook her head.

Odin glanced back at his sons. “Come with me. All of you.”

He lead them to a room off what Jane assumed was a throne room. She made a mental note to have Thor give her a proper tour of this place. She kept getting hurried through amazing rooms with no explanation or time to explore. Maybe Syn would be a better tour guide. She seemed like the kind of person who knew random trivia.

In the anteroom Odin opened a large book with illuminated pictures. “Millennia ago, there was darkness,” he told them. “And in the darkness lived the Dark Elves.”

“Bedtime stories?” Loki asked. “Really?”

“Mother told us about the Elves when we were still in the nursery,” Thor added, though he sounded slightly less dismissive than his brother.

“We’re all stories to someone,” their father retorted and continued his explanation. Jane saw Syn’s eyes widen when he mentioned Aether.

“So all we need is a Dark Elf to remove it from Jane,” Thor said when Odin was done.

“That might prove difficult.” Loki didn’t take his eyes off his father.

Thor frowned. “Why? Where are the Elves?”

“My father killed them all,” Odin said, with a frankly disturbing smile.

Thor cursed and Loki rolled his eyes and before Jane knew it the three of them were arguing again.

Syn tapped her shoulder and gestured towards the door with her head. Grateful, Jane followed her out.

“Thanks,” she said when they hit the throne room again. “I really didn’t want to stand around and listen to that.”

The sorceress tossed her a smile over her shoulder. “I’ve found when Asgardian men start blustering it’s best to let them wear themselves out while you go solve their problem for them.”

“I suppose growing up with them you get used to it.”  
 Syn looked over at her in surprise, slowing her step so they could walk side by side. “I’ve only been here a couple of years. To train with the Queen. I believe on Midgard it would be the equivalent of going to college. I’m from Alfheim, originally.”

Jane cast back through her memory, trying to recall any mention of that realm. “I don’t think I know anything about Alfheim. Are you guys the source of any myths on Earth?”

“Not by name, at least not that I’ve come by. We are far more insular than Asgard. Only the dwarves are more private. Based on what I’ve read of your myths I’d say we’re closest to the Fae. More magic. Little less trickery.” She pushed open a large door and gestured Jane inside. “Lots of rules.”

The room she’d opened turned out to be a library. Jane had seen it once before, on her first trip to Asgard. She’d been just as overwhelmed then as she was now. She took a moment just to stand and stare at the seemingly endless shelves of books.

Syn stepped around her to one of the staircases that climbed the stacks, disappearing onto a balcony far above Jane’s head. She finally shook herself awake and wandered to the long, low table. “I could spend the rest of my life here and never read it all.”

“So could I,” Syn called from above. “And I have considerably longer than you.”

“That only depresses me more.”

Syn reappeared on the stairs, carrying a small stack of books. “Does it bother you?” she asked. “That your life is so much shorter than Thor’s?”

“Sometimes,” she admitted. It wasn’t something she liked to think about. Wrapping her mind around the length of Thor’s life was difficult enough. Add in how very short hers was in comparison and it was even worse. It made their relationship seem impossible, even more than the magic hammer and disapproving father. “I can’t change it, so I try not to stress about it. That way lies madness, you know?”

The other woman stopped by Jane’s chair. “If you could change it, and live for thousands of years with him, would you?”

She gaped at her a moment. “I - I don’t know. Why? Is there a way?”

“None that I know of,” Syn admitted. “But I could look. If there is a way, I imagine it’s in this room somewhere. In the meantime -” She put her stack of books in front of Jane.

“What’s this?” she asked, touching the worn leather cover of the top one.

“You expressed interest in knowing how the Bifrost worked. That should get you started while I work on our more pressing problem. If you get bored with that I’m sure there are several other topics here that would entertain.”

Jane stared at her a moment, then back at the book. Holy hell, she should have made friends with her ages ago. “Do you have something I could take notes with?”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two times a week! I knew I could do it.
> 
> Awesome beta SweetTea is back for this chapter, which is good because I had like five mistakes in one paragraph. I don't know what I was drinking for that one.

The sound of women’s voices reached Loki’s ears when he and Thor were still several feet from the library doors. “I told you Syn would look out for your woman,” he said with a pointed look at his brother.

“I never doubted it, brother,” Thor rumbled, sounding sufficiently chastised. “I’m just concerned for her.”

He supposed that if Syn were possessed by some sort of ancient power that threatened her life Loki would be more fretful than usual. He pushed the library doors open with a shoulder, holding them so Thor could enter at his side.

Syn and Jane were at the table, Jane in a chair and Syn perched on the table top itself. He smiled, she ended up in the oddest positions when studying. The women looked over at the creak of the doors and smiled. “Thor!” Jane said. “Do you realize the years I can take off my research thanks to the books here?”

His brother smiled fondly at the human, walking around the table to peer over her shoulder. “So, Syn had been treating you well?”

“Of course,” she said, sounding surprised. “We make a good team.”

Loki leaned across the table to wrap his arms around Syn, dragging her to the edge to settle her back to his chest. “Any progress on the Aether?” he asked her quietly.

She shifted a little to look at him. “Some. The Elves weren’t much for written history, but Bor seems to have brought what little there was back home from the slaughter. Unfortunately, there’s no record of the Aether filling someone unwillingly. Generally, the Elves wielded it the way we wield our magic and could release it easily.”

His mouth turned down. “That’s discouraging.” He glanced up to see Thor and Jane listening, faces grim. “Any good news?”

Syn sighed, shifting in his grip to lean on him. Their bond thrummed in response and he closed his eyes a moment, breathing in the scent of her. She patted his hand idly as she spoke, “I’ve been looking into other kinds of possession. Aether, at its core, is energy. Foreign in its nature, but essentially no different than any other. I _think_ it can be removed and placed in another vessel.”

“Another person?” Thor asked. Loki rather liked the idea. The things they could do with that power on top of their own. . .

But Syn was shaking her head. “No, putting it in someone else would leave us with the same problem. We’re not meant to hold it, it would consume any non-Elf host.” Loki huffed a breath and she turned her head to kiss his cheek. “Even you, my love.”

“Well, I appreciate that you looked into it for me,” he muttered. “What sort of vessel do we need?”

“I haven’t figured it out, yet. Theoretically there are some minerals that could manage it, but they’re rare. On this realm, at least.” She shifted to look at him. “How went the spirited debate with your father?”

“He has agreed to let Jane stay here until we find a way to help her,” Thor said, placing a hand on the human’s back.

“And you’re both to be under guard until Thanos is dealt with,” Loki added.

Syn made a face. “I’m getting a body guard?”

“Only when I’m not with you, dearest. Which I don’t intend to be.” He kissed her tenderly, enjoying the taste of her. “I hope my presence won’t be too much of a burden.”

“I suppose I’ll find a way to put up with you.” Her smile was affectionate, eyes soft. Then, suddenly, she stiffened. “No one told my family I was missing, did they?”

Loki laughed. “Your dislike of your own family does not encourage me to marry you and become a part of it.” Syn glowered and stuck her tongue out at him. He kissed her forehead. “No. I managed to convince Odin to wait before contacting your father. Now that you’re home safe, I see no reason for them to know if you don’t tell them.”

He felt her relax at that. “Thank you.”

Thor leaned over to see what Jane was studying. “Do you want to stay and read more or would you care for a tour of the palace?”

The look on the human’s face was priceless. She looked like a child asked to choose between owning a unicorn or a dragon. Syn seemed to notice, too, because he felt her chuckle. “The books will be here when you’ve seen the sights,” she told Jane. “I can have them sent to Thor’s room if you like.”

“Books in my brother’s room,” Loki murmured into her hair. “I do believe that will be a first.” He dodged the elbow Syn tried to drive into his stomach.

Jane smiled and put a hand on Thor’s arm. “I’d love a tour.” He helped her up, holding her hand as they walked to the door.

Syn turned on the table to watch them go. “I like her,” she said quietly. “They fit.”

“Mmm. Dearest, do you have a smidgen of a romantic in you?”

She slipped her arms around his waist, resting her chin on his shoulder. “Perhaps a very small smidgen.” He lifted a hand to stroke her hair, rubbing her neck with his fingers to ease taut muscles. “I want to find a way to help her.”

“You will,” he said softly, soothingly. “You’ve made so much progress already.”

“No. Not just the Aether.” She shifted back to look at him. “I want to find a way to make her live longer. Like us.”

He sighed. “You can’t.”

She scowled at him. “What do you mean? And do _not_ give me some speech about the natural order or humans somehow being lesser than us because if you do I will-”

“You can’t because I’ve already looked,” he said quietly.

Her mouth stayed open, caught on whatever word she’d been about to say. “Y-you’ve looked?”

He nodded. “On and off all year. There’s nothing. Nothing safe, at any rate. I’ve chased down half a dozen legends. Stones, apples, fountains. All dead ends. If there’s a way to give a human an Asgardian life span, it’s not in this library. And if it’s not here. . .”

“It probably doesn’t exist,” she finished for him. With a sigh, she slumped forward again. He wrapped his arms around her, tucking her head under his chin. After a moment she said, “You’ve a smidgen of romance yourself.”

He pressed his face into her hair and took a deep breath of spring. “A touch.”

They stood in silence a moment, lost in their own thoughts and gaining comfort from the other’s touch. Syn broke the silence first. “He’s trying to build the gauntlet.”

Loki sighed deeply. “I had suspected. You’re certain?”

She nodded, not lifting her head from his chest. “There was a trophy room of some sort, when we were escaping. I didn’t recognize all of the objects, but the Orb of Morag is fairly recognizable. I’ve seen a drawing of it in almost every spell book I’ve ever read.”

He rested his chin on top of her head, thinking a moment. “The Aether must be another gem. It would explain why he took Jane.”

“It did seem to react to the other objects when we passed the room.”

“Did he have all four of the other gems?”

There was a pause and he kept quiet so she could think. “Yes. The orb was in a case with three other relics.”

Loki grit his teeth, tightening his arms on her in an effort to comfort himself as much as her. “So, there’s only two things between him and god-like powers. We hold one and the humans hold the other.”

She shifted but he didn’t release her. He felt her sigh but she resettled. “I don’t understand why he wants you to get the tesseract. He can obviously cross realms. Why doesn’t he just go take it from the humans?”

Loki had been turning similar questions over in his head the last few days. “If it was me,” he said carefully. “I would try to gather the gems surreptitiously, through intermediaries whenever possible. There are creatures and entities in the galaxy that keep an eye on such things. If he was too obvious in his plan, he would be stopped. Abruptly. Midgard tends to be the forgotten cousin of the rest of the worlds. Thanos setting foot down there would be a rather large red flag to anyone who noticed.” 

“But Asgard had already visited Midgard. And essentially told the humans that other realms existed.”

“Yes. Thor, for all his other faults, is relatively incorruptible. Attempting to get him to steal an object of power from the humans would be a losing game. I on the other hand. . .” He trailed off, certain she could fill in the rest.

She rubbed his back gently. “But he’s tipped his hand now. He knows Jane and I escaped. It’s not a stretch to think we’ll figure out what he’s up to.”

Something cold and hard gathered in his stomach, much as it had when Syn was missing. “Which means he may give up on stealth and do whatever it takes to finish his plan.” Loki leaned back and kissed her. “Thor and I will need to go back to Midgard and convince them to give us the tesseract. They’ll be no match for Thanos.”

*

Thor’s ears were still ringing with Jane’s argument as he and Loki walked to the Bifrost gate.

“I take it your lady did not wish to be left behind?” his brother said delicately.

He sighed. “You heard her?”

“Fairly certain the dead of Hel heard her, brother.” Thor appreciated the effort Loki had to be putting in to not laughing. “I’m sure we could have figured-”

“She’s safer here, surrounded by guards and warriors. Besides she has had ill dealings with SHIELD in the past. Her presence would not be a soothing one.”

Loki nodded. “Well. Syn should keep her occupied. She’s remarkably good at calming down irrationally angry people.”

“Goodness, where could she have picked up such a trait?”

“I do hope you appreciate that I set you up neatly for that joke. That’s how good of a brother I am.”

Thor rumbled a laugh as they stepped into the gate room. “Heimdall,” he greeted the keeper with a nod. “We need to go to Midgard. To the SHIELD office that holds the tesseract.”

The big man nodded and Thor saw his gaze shift to the distance. His expression darkened and he thrust the gate key into the dais. “Go quickly. Be careful.”

Thor and Loki exchanged a look and pulled out their respective weapons as the Bifrost blazed and sucked them in.

They landed in a desert, next to a road leading into a cave. There were vehicles strewn about, toppled and smoldering. The cave entrance was blocked with boulders, as if there had been a cave-in. To the left, a hastily erected tent protected injured men and women, while others scrambled around. It looked as if there had been a battle and the humans had not done well.

“You! What the hell are you doing here?” Thor turned to see the one eyed commander they had met the last time they had tried to get the tesseract. He had a wound on his forehead but seemed otherwise unharmed. “And where were you an hour ago?” he added as he reached them.

“What happened here?” Loki asked sheathing the knives he’d pulled out before departing Asgard.

“A goddamned alien invasion is what happened.”

“And the tesseract?” Thor was fairly certain of the answer before it came.

“Gone. They managed to create some sort of portal with it, sent through enough . . . creatures to overwhelm my men and headed off to God knows where before we could bring the mountain down on them. I have four dead and two dozen injured.” The commander seemed to try to calm himself a little and crossed his arms. “Why the hell are you two here?”

Thor sighed. “To warn you something like this might happen.”

“In addition to the warnings we gave you the last time we were here,” Loki added in his helpful way.

The glare the other man gave him should, by all rights, have scorched Loki’s armor through. “Fat lot of good those warnings do me now.”

Thor looked at his brother. “Can you do anything for the injured?” he asked quietly.

“Syn is better at it,” he muttered. Thor held his gaze until Loki sighed and threw up his hands. “Fine, I’ll try.” He stalked towards the medical tent, leaving Thor alone with the commander.

“Rest assured, my brother and I will do all we can to prevent Thanos from completing his plans.”

The other man crossed his arms. “And if you don’t?”

Well, if what Loki and Syn were saying was true then if they failed no one would be alive to complain about it. It probably wouldn’t do him any favors to say that to the commander. So he fell back on his old arrogance. “We will not fail.”

Nothing in the commander’s expression indicated he believed him.

*

Loki grimly surveyed the injured humans in the makeshift triage tent. Healing was not his forte by any stretch of the imagination. His mother had taught him enough to let him keep Thor and their friends alive during battle. He had never needed much more. Asgardians were sturdy, as a general rule, and could survive a great deal of damage and still make it to a healer. Not made of tissue paper like the humans.

The gold spark at the other end of his magic flared with amused censure and he tried to project innocence back. Syn was a healer of the highest order. Had they not grown so entangled it was likely she would have gone back to Alfheim after her training with Frigga was complete and become a healer there. Odd how such small things could change the course of one’s life.

He could feel her influence as he walked through the injured, healing those that were near death or beyond the help of Midgardian medicine. The magic coming from his hands was far more gold than green. He could almost pretend Syn was crouched with him, murmuring assurances and reminding him to be nice. When this mess was done with he would need to talk with her. About the future. Her disappearance had put a great deal of things into perspective. Perhaps they could go on a trip, somewhere peaceful and pretty.

He finished healing the last of the agents, a grim faced man in a suit with an impressive impalement wound in his torso, and rejoined Thor at the side of the tent. “There. I’ve done my goodwill gesture for the millennia.”

“Thank you,” Thor said, glaring at the caved in mine. “There won’t be anything worth examining down there. We may as well go home and plan our next step.”

“Which, I believe at this point, is hide behind the walls of Asgard until something comes to us?”

“Well, if you and your woman could read a little faster. . .”

Loki’s retort was cut off by the light of the Bifrost swallowing them up.

Once again, they found their women in the library. Well, they found Jane, at least. She was seated at the table, looking exhausted, surrounded by books and sipping a mug of something that smelled spicy and potent. Thor sank into the chair beside her. “You’re growing weaker.”

She nodded and managed a weak smile. “Syn said the soup would help. That it was ‘fortifying of spirit.’”

“Where is she?” Loki asked.

Jane gestured to the ceiling. “Up in the books somewhere. I hear her clatter or move things occasionally so I know she’s still here. And every so often a new book appears on the stack.”

The woman was probably lucky none of the books had dropped on her. Syn had a way of forgetting other people existed when she was deep in research. Much like himself, the words took up all her concentration. The hunt for an answer could be all consuming.

He squinted up at the spiraling stairs. “I should hunt her down, inform her the tesseract is now lost.”

Jane sat up straighter. “It is?”

“Yes,” Thor rumbled. “Taken from SHIELD in a brutal attack. We did what we could to help the injured,” he added at Jane’s frightened look.

“We?” Loki drawled, still peering up at the balconies in hope of spotting Syn.

Thor ignored him. “We need to warn my father, but we came to you first. The Aether is the last thing Thanos needs. He could-”

There was a shriek of what Loki thought was triumph from above them. A heartbeat later Syn appeared in a flare of gold, sitting in the middle of the table, an ancient looking scroll in her hand. “I’ve got it! Oh, hello, darling. Thor. How was Earth?”

“Bad,” Loki said before Thor could start explaining. He didn’t want her distracted. “What have you found?”

“Something to hold the Aether.” She waved the scroll. “I realized, something must have held it before. Jane said she got it from a pillar of some sort. So I just thought, where did the pillar come from?”

“Svartalfheim,” he said in unison with her. He covered his eyes with a hand. “Of course.”

She beamed at him. “There’s a rock there, similar to obsidian, that can house the power of the Aether. Moreover, it all but calls to it. All we need to do is take Jane to Svartalfheim and perform a ritual to remove the energy from her. It should sink directly into the ground and form a new container.” 

“Then what do we do with it?” Thor asked.

“I have no idea,” she replied brightly. “But it will be out of Jane, which I believe is our immediate goal.”

“Thanos will still be after it, though,” Thor persisted. “And having it sticking out of the ground on a barren realm isn’t the best of hiding places.”

“Once it’s in the rock we should be able to hide that somewhere,” Loki mused. “Guard it. Possibly even easier than we could Jane.”

Syn lifted one of the thick books strewn around the table. “According to what little I can find about the gauntlet, the Aether is literally the last component. The other Infinity Gems build the weapon and the Aether powers it. Like a battery. He will need to forge the other five together before the Aether will do him any good. It may buy us some time.”

Jane made a sudden sound, as if choking, and the mug fell from her hands as she lurched from her chair, clutching at her throat. Thor caught her as she fell and Syn leapt to that side of the table, kneeling next to her. Loki felt their magic surge as she enveloped Jane in healing light. It took a few tense, endless heartbeats before she let it fade and Jane lay limp but breathing in Thor’s arm.

Syn and Thor exchanged a look before she looked over at Loki, expression bleak. “Perhaps not as much time as I’d thought.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SweetTea did her magic beta thing on this one. All praise.

Thor left Jane with Syn, tucked in the other woman’s bed with two guards on the door. Loki walked with him to speak to their father about the events on Midgard and what needed to be done to help Jane.

“She’ll be safe,” his brother said quietly. “Syn won’t let anything happen to her.”

The words didn’t comfort him, but the fact that Loki was trying to assure him did warm him some. Their brotherhood had grown so strained in the past and Thor hadn’t even noticed it. Hadn’t realized how forgotten Loki had felt. The events last year - his banishment, Loki’s almost-coup and eventual fall - could have been the death knell for any relationship they might have had left. Now his brother tried to comfort him, even when it seemed hopeless. Thor wasn’t even sure Loki liked Jane very much. But it was quite obvious he still loved Thor.

Unfortunately, kind words from a liar were rarely effective.

Odin listened to their tale in silence, watching them almost passively from his throne. Thor began to dread the old man’s reaction. He was already mentally planning how to sneak the four of them out of Asgard as Loki finished speaking and their father stirred.

“Are you confident you can remove the Aether from Jane Foster?”

Thor looked at his brother. Loki seemed to consider it carefully before answering. He was either weighing the odds or cooking up a lie. Neither option filled Thor with hope.

“Syn is confident,” Loki said finally. “And I have faith in her. But it is a procedure that hasn’t been tried in your life time, let alone mine. There are always risks. Not least of them being Thanos interrupting the proceedings.”

Odin shifted slightly. “You feel that is a possibility.” Thor noted it was not pitched as a question.

“He requires the Aether to fuel the Gauntlet. Whether you believe it is a myth or not, Thanos certainly believes it’s real. There is a good chance we will be vulnerable during and immediately after the extraction. It would be an ideal time to attack.” Loki shrugged. “It’s when I would do it.”

Thor wasn’t entirely sure reminding Odin that he was a planner and schemer on par with Thanos was in Loki’s best interest. So he was surprised when his father chuckled a little. “When will you journey to Svartalheim?”

Loki glanced at Thor in obvious surprise. “As soon as possible.”

“Jane is resting now,” Thor added, feeling the beginning of cautious optimism. “But once she is awake, we are prepared to go.”

Odin nodded, looking out the window thoughtfully, before returning his gaze to them. “Three hours. I will send a guard with you to protect you should Thanos try to take advantage. Afterwards, if nothing goes wrong, you are to return Jane Foster to Midgard and bring the Aether back with you. We can plan our next steps then.”

He and Loki exchanged matching stunned faces. “Yes, Father,” he managed to choke out. Odin gestured, dismissing them, and they turned in unison, striding from the throne room as if they feared he would change his mind.

“Are we entirely sure that was Odin and not an impostor of some sort?” Loki asked once they were in the hallway.

“You would know better than I,” Thor muttered. “I was prepared to sneak us all out of the realm. Probably in some ridiculously dangerous manner. Now I’m feeling downright optimistic about the whole thing.”

Loki made a face. “Oh, don’t say that. You’ll ruin everything.”

*

Three hours later, almost exactly, they walked into the Bifrost gate to find not just a small guard, but a full battalion of soldiers, neatly lined up along the edges of the room, with Odin himself at the head of the troop. He was in his full battle gear, smiling that faint smile he wore when about to embark on battle. The four of them stopped in their tracks, staring. Well, three of them did. Thor was carrying Jane, who was falling in and out of consciousness and wasn’t aware enough to notice the crowd.

Loki found himself gaping rather stupidly at the spectacle. Next to him, he saw Syn pinch her arm in disbelief. Well, if she was seeing it too then it wasn’t a trick. And Odin was probably really himself. That actually made it more disconcerting.

Thor was the first of them to regain his voice. “Father? You - what are you -” Though not his vocabulary, apparently.

“Been a long time since I had a proper villain to fight,” Odin said almost cheerfully. “And even longer since I saw my sons in action.”

“Of course, we’re actually hoping to _not_ have to fight anyone,” Loki said dryly in an effort to cover up the flicker of emotion Odin’s words had caused.

The old man scoffed a little. “Better to get the battle over with while we’re ready for him, that’s what I say.” He gestured to Heimdall. “At your leisure.”

The gatekeeper thrust the sword that acted as the Bifrost’s key into the slot and the light blazed. At Odin’s gesture, the soldiers began to march into the light. Syn’s hand slid into his as they approached it and he spared her a brief glance. She was staring straight ahead at the Bifrost light but he could see tension tightening her eyes and the edges of her mouth. A great deal was riding on her being able to do what she thought she could. He believed in her, wholeheartedly, but he knew she still doubted.

He offered her a smile and squeezed her hand as the light swept them away.

Svartalheim was a barren, washed out rock of a realm, even worse than Jotunheim. Loki didn’t hide the look of distaste he knew crossed his face as he surveyed the area. In Thor’s arms Jane stirred and gasped, opening her eyes. They were pure black, flecked with light. Thor looked at Loki, then Syn, obvious fear on his face.

Syn swallowed visibly, then scanned the terrain. “That way,” she said, pointing. “Towards the cliffs. The more stone near us the better.”

They trekked across the barren plain, Odin and his guards at their heels. The air seemed tense with anticipation. As if the world around them held its breath, waiting to see what was to come. Loki wondered idly if that was the usual weather in Svartalheim, or if he was projecting his own anxiety outward. He had the sense something was about to happen. Something momentous. He could only hope it was the ceremony to free Jane that was setting his nerves on edge and not the very real possibility Thanos could arrive at any second.

After less than ten minutes of walking, they came to a flat area somewhat protected by the cliffs rising in the distance. There, Syn gestured for Thor to set Jane down. The human looked very young and very fragile laying limp on the cold rock and dirt. Syn kneeled next to her and started sketching things in the dirt around the other woman.

With a gesture, Odin spread the guard out, surrounding them with soldiers three or four deep. Odin himself joined them at the center and the three of them - Loki, Thor and their father - took places surrounding the women. He and Thor on either side and Odin at Jane’s feet. The tension had now ratcheted up to almost painful levels. Loki could see it in the faces of the men around them, as well as in his brother and father. 

Steadying himself as best he could, he crouched to speak quietly with Syn. “What do you need us to do?”

He watched her mouth tighten and felt a wave of her own anxiety shift through their bond. He placed what he hoped was a calming hand on her back, rubbing in light circles. It seemed to soothe her and her voice was rock steady when she spoke. “The ritual takes a great deal of concentration. Only the strongest elves could manage it and, well, I’m not one. Whatever happens I can’t stop until all of the energy is leeched from her.” She glanced at him. “No matter what.”

Loki nodded and kissed her forehead. “We’ll defend you to the last man, dearest.”

“Well,” she said softly. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” She stole a fast kiss and turned back to Jane. Loki stood as she held her hands out over the other woman, palms down. She didn’t utter a word, but he felt their magic shift, pouring into her like a flood. An instant later Jane’s body arched off the ground, as if pulled by a string around her waist.

Thor moved as if to stop her and Loki held out a warning hand. “The ritual has begun. You must at least try to give her a chance to make it work.” His brother looked both miserable and angry, but stepped down, watching Jane like a hawk.

The three of them watched the women anxiously, looking for any hint as to if it was working or not. Loki had no idea what was going through the minds of the other men. (Well, he had some idea what was going through Thor’s. His dear brother didn’t have much of a poker face.) For his part, Loki was watching the ebb and flow of his magic as Syn used it to heal Jane. He was fairly certain that, had they not been bonded and able to share magic as they were, that neither of them would have been able to do this alone. As it was, she had the potential to drain every bit of energy they had, depending on how long this went on.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he saw Jane’s skin change, taking on an unhealthy reddish hue. A few minutes after that he saw something that looked like red tinted oil pool on her chest, then slowly float above it. The Aether, he assumed. He risked a glance at Syn and saw that, while she was obviously concentrating hard enough that sweat was beading on her forehead, she was also starting to smile. Obviously, the ritual was working, slowly but surely. He allowed himself to relax slightly.

Which was when the sky seemed to open up with a sound like fabric tearing.

Everyone but Syn looked up at the portal that had opened as creatures began to pour through on crafts of alien design. Most were gliders, holding one or two soldiers armed to the teeth. Amidst these was a larger warship with Thanos at the helm, flanked with a personal guard. Loki felt a cool rush of hate at the sight of the Titan.

Odin barked orders as the first of the enemy foot soldiers hit the ground. The ones still on the gliders began to fire. The Asgardian guard closed ranks while the archers returned the volley, taking down several of the ships in glorious displays of pyrotechnics.

“Use the hammer,” Loki told his brother. “They’re weak to the electricity.” His brother cast an uncertain glance back at their women and Loki placed a hand on his arm. “Go fight. I’ll protect them. You have my word.”

Thor met his gaze a moment, then nodded, a faint smile on his face. He turned to look at Thanos, expression chilling into one of grim determination. He spun his hammer and was gone.

Loki drew his knives, placed himself between the women and the battle and braced himself.

Had the portal closed, the aliens at Thanos’ disposal would have been no match for the highly trained Asgardians. As it was, the first wave took major casualties and the Asgardians barely broke a sweat. The problem was they were merely the _first_ wave. The portal remained open and more enemies came pouring in. Loki found himself staring at the tear in the sky, trying to determine how to best close it. Portals and travel were, after all, his specialty.

The tide was starting to turn in favor of Thanos when Syn’s voice startled him from his thoughts. “Loki.”

He turned to find the puddle of red-black oil hovering over Jane had grown as large as her body. Sweat glistened on Syn’s forehead and neck and she was pale as death. Loki had to fight himself not to go to her. “What is it?”

Her throat worked. “It’s almost over. When I give the word move Jane out of the way. The Aether will want to go to ground.”

Loki moved to the other side of the human just as another glider hit the ground in an explosion of fire and dirt. The fighting was growing ever closer to them as the Asgardians lost numbers and ground. The foot soldiers would overtake them soon and then Thanos would be upon them. At least he could get the women out of harm’s way before that happened.

He hovered his hand over Jane’s arm and watched Syn. Another bubble of oil was pulled from the human’s skin. Syn nodded. “Now.” He closed his hand around Jane’s arm and pulled, rolling them both away.

 Syn turned her hands palm down and slammed them into the dirt. The oil coalesced into something that looked like a knife, still hovering in the air. Then it slammed into the ground, churning up rock and earth in its wake, leaving a gaping hole at Syn’s knees.

She stared at the hole, glanced at the approaching battle, then met Loki’s eyes. She managed a small, faint smile. Then the ground shook and erupted between them.

Loki called her name, but it was lost in the roar of weapon fire and earthquake. He couldn’t see her anymore and instead threw himself over Jane’s still prone body in an effort to protect her from the now falling rocks pouring out of the ground.

It lasted only a few seconds, then there was silence. Loki wasn’t sure if the battle had momentarily ceased or if his ears were just ringing too loudly to hear anything else. He risked a glance up to find a dark red pillar, perhaps three feet high, jutting out of the ground where Syn had been kneeling. 

“Syn. Syn!” He scooped Jane up and struggled to his feet.

“Here, I’m here.” She came around the pillar, scrambling and staggering, giving the stone a wide berth. She was still pale and didn’t seem to be able to keep her feet under herself, but she was generally whole and unharmed.

She reached him and he shifted Jane to her arms. He scanned the cliffs and mountains framing them. “There’s a ledge a third of the way up that rise. See it?” She looked where he pointed and nodded when she spotted the outcropping he indicated. “Take Jane there, hunker down and wait out the battle.”

“I can help,” she protested. “I can get her to safety and then help.”

Loki shook his head sharply. They didn’t have time for this conversation. Now that the Aether was out of Jane and proudly sticking out of the ground, Thanos would be even more determined to reach it. “I will not be able to fight effectively if I know you’re in danger.”

“Loki-”

“Go,” he said, fear making his voice harsh. “Before you get us both killed with your damned stubbornness.”

Her jaw stuck out a bit, though the effect was ruined by the tears making her eyes bright. “I love you,” she said. “Live long enough for me to yell at you for your tone.” With that, she gestured, and she and Jane disappeared in a shimmer of gold. He glanced up at the mountain and saw her shape on the outcropping he had told her to go to. It wasn’t ideal. Had he the time and energy to spare, he would have sent them back to Asgard. But they were out of immediate danger and that was something.

He gave the pillar of Aether a disdainful glance. So much effort for such a harmless looking thing. He turned back to the fighting, scanning for his brother in the fray. Time to win the war.


	21. Chapter 21

Jane was sleeping on something very hard.

It was the only reason she was waking up. She didn’t know how long she had been asleep, but she felt fantastic. As if she’d finally caught up on rest after days of not getting enough. Truly, this had to have been the best night’s sleep of her life. She just didn’t know why she had gone to bed somewhere so uncomfortable. Her back was stiff, and the pillow under her head was oddly shaped and far too firm. Had she crashed out in the lab again?

 She opened her eyes and remembered.

The sky over head was a sickly, unnatural shade of green. She was laying on bare dirt without a hint of vegetation. And the lumpy pillow under her head was Syn’s lap. The other woman wasn’t looking at her, though she had a hand on Jane’s shoulder to keep her steady. She was braced against a rock, watching something in the distance with a grim, intent look on her face. Jane stirred, trying to sit up, and caught her attention.

Syn looked down and smiled thinly. “You’re awake.”

Jane nodded, giving sitting up another try. “Did it work?”

“It did,” she said softly, bracing Jane’s shoulder so she could sit and prop herself against a boulder. “You are free of the Aether. How do you feel?”

“Great. A little groggy.” She rubbed her head. “Why are we still here?”

Syn gave a gesture indicating whatever she had been watching while Jane slept. Jane shifted enough to peer around the rock. An all-out battle raged on the plains of Svartalheim; between strange alien creatures on gliders and soldiers of Asgard. She could see Thor, or at least what she assumed was Thor from all the lightning. She was sure Loki was down there as well.

She looked back at Syn. “Why aren’t you fighting?”

The other woman looked out at the battle. “Loki asked me to stay safe. So he could concentrate.” Her gaze flicked back to Jane. “It was easier to agree, since you needed protecting.”

Jane shook her head. “I don’t need protecting now.”

One of Syn’s brows went up. “Really.”

She waved her hands around indicating the little ledge they were sitting on. “If the fighting gets out here we’re all screwed anyway. I may not be able to swing a sword but you have some sort of fighting ability, right? The magic?”

“I don’t know that I would be the deciding factor in victory but. . .” She trailed off suddenly, staring out at the land as if something had just occurred to her. “Maybe.”

“Then go.” Jane waved her hands in a shooing gesture this time. “If you’re more use out there than here then that’s where you should be.”

Syn looked at her again. “It sits ill to leave you here unarmed.” She glanced around as if looking for a weapon, then her eyes lit up and she held her hands out. A staff appeared in them, which she handed to Jane. “Energy comes out here.” She pointed to one end. “Just point and twist yours hands in opposite directions. The range is limited, so don’t try to snipe anyone. But it will keep you safe if they do find you here. At least long enough for someone to notice and help.”

The staff was heavy and seemed to hum with energy, but Jane did feel better with in her hands. Girl power bravado was one thing, and she’d meant what she said about Syn being more use out there than up here, but having a means of defense made it all feel a little less suicidal. She tried to look fierce when she nodded. “Thank you. Go kick ass.”

Syn smiled and stood. She held her hands out again and a long bow appeared between them, along with a quiver packed with arrows. “I will see you soon, Jane Foster.”

Before Jane could respond, she was gone.

*  
They were losing. Badly.

So far they were putting up enough of a fight to keep Thanos away from the Aether, but it was only a matter of time. Time Loki was fairly certain could be counted in minutes. He had lost track of Odin, on the ground with the troops. He assumed a cry would have gone up if the old man had fallen. Thor was in the air, taking down the hover boards and trying to create a choke point at the portal. It was working, to an extent, but the alien troops already through were more than sufficient to decimate what was left of the Asgardian forces. Something needed to happen - soon - or the fate of all the realms was going to become very bleak, very quickly.

He whirled, sinking his blade into the chest of the nearest opponent. He yanked it out and was turning to face the next one before the body had fallen. This one sent a blast of energy from his staff directly into Loki’s chest. He staggered a step, throwing a blade at the creature. It took it in the shoulder and the alien lifted his staff for another blast. Loki braced himself for the blow that never came. An arrow thrust out from his enemy’s throat. The staff dropped from its hands and it fell to the ground.

Loki looked around for his savior and spotted Syn, having hijacked one of the alien hoverboards, was sniping from a spot near the Aether pillar. He scowled at her and pointed emphatically to the cliff he had sent her to. She responded with a smile and fired an arrow over his shoulder, felling another alien. 

They were going to have _such_ a conversation about this later. For now she seemed to be holding her own so he tried to put it out of his head, jumping back into the fray.

He took more blasts and a brutal strike across the jaw that sent him reeling even as he snapped the neck of the creature who had hit him. He shook his head to clear it and checked on Syn, still hovering above the Aether. She didn’t notice his regard, too busy firing arrows as quickly as she could. He still couldn’t find his father, though suspected he was near the front, in the thick of battle. Loki looked up to find his brother just in time to watch him attack Thanos outright, ramming into him hammer first.

The blow knocked the Titan off his ship, sending him and Thor to the ground a few dozen feet from the Aether. As they stood up to face each other Loki saw a glint of metal on Thanos’ hand. The gauntlet, it had to be. If they could get it off the mad man. . . Loki went running, ripping through any alien that got in his way. Finally, something resembling a plan.

*

Thor gripped Mjolnir tighter, staring down the purple skinned alien before him. He was big. Still not the biggest Thor had fought, but imposing nonetheless. Thanos wielded no weapon, save the bejeweled gauntlet that was the cause of all this trouble. Thor made a mental note to destroy the damned thing if it was the last thing he did.

Thanos was obviously sizing him up as well. When they had both taken the other’s measure the purple skinned Titan smiled, showing straight, white teeth, and gave him a little nod. Thor nodded in return, spun his hammer and attacked.

The first blow was aimed at that smile. It knocked the Titan back a bit, but he came back immediately with a fist to Thor’s jaw. The strike staggered him, scattered his thoughts. He blocked the next punch with his arm. After that there was no style to it, none of the years of training he had gone through to learn to be an effective warrior. This was brawling, a fight to the death. And for the first time in his life Thor wasn’t entirely certain of his success.

He did land a blow that made the big man bleed, however. Thor felt an immediate, visceral sense of satisfaction at the sight of the viscous blue fluid trickling from the Titan’s cheek. Thanos lifted a hand, looked at the blood and grinned widely. “Finally. A man worth killing.”

Thor was fairly certain that was meant to be a compliment. He had no time to savor it because Thanos attacked again, with more force than he’d used before. He’d been holding back? Thor’s blows grew frantic as he started to give ground, hoping for one lucky shot, some way to buy time. Behind the Titan he caught sight of Loki plowing through the battle, heading straight for him. He felt a flicker of relief. Together they would have a good chance of winning.

The thought was still in his head when Thanos got through his defenses and gripped his throat. Thor struck futilely at his arm as the Titan lifted him off his feet. He shook him sharply and Thor felt something snap deep within him. Mjolnir fell from nerveless fingers as he was thrown aside like so much trash.

He heard Loki scream his name, in a voice he had never heard from his brother before. Then he appeared, skidding to a stop between Thor and the approaching Thanos. Loki’s blades were out and he was hunkered, braced for a battle he had no hope of wining. Thor struggled to breathe, to keep watching. To see as much of Loki defending him as he could before the black took him.

Before either Thanos or Loki could make a move a glider came from the sky and slammed into Thanos, knocking the Titan to the ground. He grappled with the rider a moment, who Thor couldn’t see clearly. Then Loki shouted, “Syn!” in a voice almost as torn as the one he had used to scream Thor’s name. 

Thanos stood, with the Alfan princess dangling off of him like a child. He flung her aside with one hand, as easily as Thor would have swatted a fly, and turned back to Loki. That madman’s grin was back on his face as he approached. Thor saw Loki’s jaw clench and his fists tightened on his knives.

That was when Thor noticed Thanos’ left hand was bare.

“Thanos!” The call came from several feet away and froze both the Titan and Loki in their tracks. They turned and between them, in the distance, Thor could see the Aether pillar and next to it Syn. She was holding her left hand up, the jeweled gauntlet covering it and half her forearm.

“Syn! Don’t!” Loki had hardly any voice left and Thor ached for him. 

Thanos gave a wordless roar of rage and started towards the pillar, his composure finally broken. Before he had taken a dozen steps, Syn pulled her hand back and thrust it into the pillar of Aether. 

And the world seemed to explode with light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I've done my job right a good percentage of you are now thinking "Oh, holy shit."
> 
> See ya Sunday! :D


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot tell you how long I have been looking forward to posting this chapter. Weeks. Months maybe.

The light was blinding. Loki staggered back a step to crouch next to his fallen brother. Thor was still breathing, shallowly, but alive was alive. Loki sent what little healing magic he had into the big oaf, hoping to help somehow, even to ease his pain.

Spots danced in front of his eyes. He blinked rapidly, finding Syn’s shape, then Thanos’. They stood perhaps ten feet apart, Syn in the center of what looked like a meteor strike and Thanos at the edge of it. The pillar that had held the Aether was gone and Syn had. . . changed.

Her tunic and leggings were gone, replaced by a black gown that seemed made of shadows, swirling around her like smoke. Her hair was unbound, pouring down her back in a riot of waves and half curls. The awkward, too-big gauntlet was gone, replaced by a delicate collection of golden chains, woven together around her hand and wrist, dotted here and there with jewels. Looking closely, it appeared in places as if the chains were sunk into her skin. Loki felt a shudder of dread move down his spine.

He could still see her spark, shining bright at the other end of their bond. But now the gold was shot through with other colors. Purple, red, green, blue. They should have been pretty, but to him they looked like a taint. As if they were polluting her, trying to smother the gold.

She started towards Thanos, and though her feet moved as if she was walking, Loki couldn’t be sure they were actually touching the ground.

When she reached the Titan she had to tip her head back to look at him. Her head titled to the side in a way that seemed alien and somehow off. “Thanos,” she said, and her voice seemed to echo with a second, deeper voice. “The Mad Titan,” she continued, still staring him down. “Last of your people. I hear you court death.”

Loki couldn’t see the Titan’s face, but he would have bet a great deal of money that he had that crazy smile on his face as she continued, “Go and meet her.” She gestured with her gantleted hand and Thanos disintegrated into countless shreds of purple that promptly scattered to the wind.

The battled had stopped when the Aether exploded, both sides left staring at the sudden turn of events. Syn turned slowly to look at the armies, studying the carnage, the fallen men on both sides. The portal still spewing aliens into the realm.

And then she smiled.

Years later, when he spoke of it with others who were there, Loki swore he heard a scream. Whether it was the sound of the portal suddenly closing or the combined cries of pain of every enemy there, he wasn’t sure. But he knew he heard it and none that he spoke with disagreed with him. In an instant, every alien was gone, leaving the battered Asgardian guard standing alone on the plain. Syn lifted a hand and a wind swept the field. As it passed, fallen Asgardians slowly started to rise, injuries gone. The soldiers watched their brethren stand and turned to stare at Syn with a mix of wonder and fear.

She turned back to where Loki was still crouched next to his brother. Her head tilted again and she started towards them. He was certain now that her feet were not touching the ground. As she got closer, he saw that her eyes had gone black. No green, no white, just an endless void with no stars. The colors were still swirling in her golden spark, but right now he feared they were winning.

As if sensing his dread, she stopped when there was still a few feet between them. She flicked her fingers and Thor gasped, lurching under Loki’s hand. He looked down at his brother to find him healed. Whole. Without a scratch on him. Loki helped him to sit, then get to his feet, just as Odin walked towards them, giving Syn a wide berth.

Loki met his father’s eyes and saw fear there. His heart sank. “She wields the gauntlet,” Odin said as he reached them. He clapped a hand to Thor’s arm, giving it a squeeze that would be the only sign of worry or gratitude at his son’s survival.

“Let me talk to her,” Loki said quietly.

Odin looked almost sad when he turned his gaze back to him. “Loki. You know the stories.”

“They’re just stories,” he hissed. “I know her. She wouldn’t-”

“She put it on.”

“To save us all! No one has ever donned it for unselfish reasons.”

Thor hadn’t taken his eyes off Syn, who was still standing a few feet away, letting them have their little chat. That, more than anything, worried Loki.

“What are you two talking about?” Thor asked, still watching her.

“The gauntlet,” Odin explained. “It gives the wearer the power to control reality itself. But the power has a cost.”

“In magic, the adage absolute power corrupts absolutely is more fact than warning,” Loki added. “No one who’s ever worn the gauntlet has ever survived the experience with their sanity intact.” He glared at his father. “But no one has ever wielded the gauntlet while bonded to another. I can reach her.”

“And buy her the time to destroy us all,” he snapped. Loki thought, perhaps, some of his anger stemmed from worry. “The gauntlet wields the person, not the other way around. This is our only chance, before the power-”

“I can hear you, Allfather.” It was said in an eerie sing-song that sounded nothing like the Syn he knew.

 Odin went for his sword and Thor put a hand on his arm, giving Loki a nod. Loki spared his brother a look of pure gratitude and turned to Syn. He hated that he hesitated a moment before walking towards her. Those uncanny black eyes followed him the entire way.

“He’s right, you know,” she said when Loki reached her, close enough to have a private conversation. “The gauntlet does have a mind of its own.” She lifted her hand and he saw that he’d been correct, some of the chains were sunk into her flesh. “But it bows to my will.”

“You must take it off,” he told her quietly. Her gaze flicked back to his face. “The battle’s won, Thanos destroyed. You don’t need it any more.”

Her head tilted and for a moment she was a stranger to him. There was not even a glimmer of the bright, strong, caring woman he had fallen in love with. It was an alien thing wearing her form. The colors had almost entirely swallowed the gold.

“I can feel the turn of the realms,” she said quietly. She wasn’t looking at him, but at something in the distance that he probably couldn’t even fathom, her face caught in a creepily serene expression. “See all the branches and roots of the Tree. I can do. . . _anything_.”

“Syn-”

Those eyes snapped to his face. “I can change the worlds for you. Rewrite time. Make you king of Asgard. Of Jotunheim. Of the nine realms and everything beyond them.” She lifted the gauntlet. “All I have to do is _want_ it.”

Two things occurred to him right then. The first was that he should never wield power like that. He might not be the most self aware creature in the realms, but he knew that much. Were he the one with the gauntlet on the universe would already have been rewritten in his image. 

The second was that this wasn’t Syn anymore. Not really. Syn was the one who called him away from the edge. Who reminded him the cost of power, of greed. Syn wouldn’t have offered such things to him. She loved him too much to tempt him so. Whatever the gauntlet was, it was corrupting. And he was losing her.

“No,” he said softly. Deep inside, he saw the gold flickering against the smothering rainbow of colors. He focused on that, that little spark that told him she was not completely lost. “No, Syn. Not like this. Please.” He reached out to her and she looked at his hands as if they were strange, foreign things. “You need to fight it, dearest. We’ve won. You saved us all. But this is going to swallow you up unless you fight it.”

The serene look on her face faltered and he saw a glimpse of his Syn. When she whispered, “No,” it was in a voice that was far less echoing.

He decided to press his advantage. “You promised me that someday it would be my turn to rescue you. This is that day, Syn. Fight this.”

She was breathing hard, bordering on panicky. “But. . . you want power. You seek it out. This is power. Ultimate power. That’s what you want. I did it for _you_.”

He took a step closer, reaching for her. “I do want power. But I want you more. And this is taking you from me, Syn. I can see you fading underneath the power of the gauntlet.” It was true, the gold was growing smaller and duller in comparison to the other colors. “Power would mean nothing to me without you at my side.”

Tears were tracking down her cheeks, but she hadn’t made a sound. “Loki-” It was almost her real voice.

“Please, dearest.” His voice broke a little on the words. “Don’t go where I can’t follow you.”

She screamed, a high piercing sound of pain, of fear. He forced himself to stand his ground, especially when he saw the gold spark flare up, driving back the rest. For a bare instant, her eyes flashed green and she smiled. Her right hand, the one without the gauntlet, came up to touch his face. “I love you,” she whispered, and there was no hint of the echo.

Then she took a step back and held her left arm out, hand as far from her body as possible. “Thor!”

It took Loki an instant to realize what she intended and turn to stop his brother. An instant was all it took for Thor to send the hammer flying. Mjolnir flew past Loki and slammed into Syn’s hand with the sickening crunch.

 The gauntlet shattered with her hand, gold chain and jewels scattering. The blow spun her a quarter turn and she dropped to her knees, a high, thin wail coming from her throat. She gripped her left wrist in her right hand.

Loki dropped to his knees beside her, bracing an arm around her shoulder to keep her upright. He tried not to look at her hand. What little he saw no longer looked like a hand, anyway. The colors were gone from her gold, as if they had never been there. Relief flooded him and he pressed his face into her hair a moment.

Thor and Odin came running up to them. The hammer was back in his brother’s hand already. His father was grim faced with concern. “We need to get her to Eir,” he said. “Heimdall-”

“Wait,” Syn gasped, pain making her voice tight. “Jane. Jane is on the cliff.”

With a thought Loki found the human on the distant ledge and brought her to them in a shimmer of green. The woman was gripping an alien staff in her hands and blinked, bewildered, when she appeared. “What on earth-” She broke off when she saw Syn’s hand. “Oh, my God.”

Syn reached out with her good hand and gripped Jane’s wrist. “If you could have the time - the time to read the books - would you want it?”

Based on Thor’s expression he was as baffled as Loki, but Jane seemed to understand exactly what she meant. She leaned closer and nodded. “Yes. Yes, of course.”

Without another word, Syn lifted her broken hand and pressed it to Jane’s chest, teeth gritting. There was a faint flare of light and Jane staggered back, into Thor’s arms, gasping. Syn slumped forward and would have gone face first into the dirt had Loki not caught her and tugged her into his lap.

“What just happened?” Thor asked, sounding almost panicked.

“Gift,” Syn got out between gritted teeth. “I gave her a gift.”

“What gift?” Odin asked over Loki’s shoulder. Something in his tone made him think the old man knew already.

Syn gave a brilliant smile as she slipped into unconsciousness. “Five thousand years. Give or take.”


	23. Chapter 23

She had been asleep for over a day. 

Loki had spent the entire time at her side. When his father had wanted to rant to him about her recklessness and the implications of what had been done he had to come down to the healing halls and deliver the lecture in a harsh whisper. He made several good points, but Loki couldn’t really bring himself to care about grand implications. Not until Syn opened her eyes and spoke to him again.

The Infinity Gems had been scattered across the realms again. One to Midgard, one in the vaults of Asgard. He thought one had gone to Alfheim. Another to the Dwarves, to be buried in the heart of a volcano. Odin was fairly serious about the gauntlet never being built again.

Thor and Jane had both come to visit. The human - well, he supposed he’d have to stop thinking of her as such - Jane seemed fine. Quite perky for someone who’d just had their fundamental physiology altered. She had touched Syn’s uninjured hand solemnly and whispered a thank you, as if worried there would be no other chance to say it.

No one was certain if there would be. No one had ever wielded the gauntlet and lived. But a year ago no one had survived a magical bonding before. They were good at the impossible, the two of them. He could see her spark, dormant in sleep, but as bright and healthy as it had ever been. She was alive. She would live.

It was very late at night. He was almost certainly the only one awake in the palace, save perhaps the kitchen staff, readying for breakfast. He had a small light and a book and was trying not to look at her on every third word. Staring had not encouraged her to awake. Perhaps distraction would. He had snuck Dragon in after Eir’s post supper check in. The cat was now curled on the bed next to Syn, purring in contentment at her mistress’s return.

Syn stirred slightly, took a deep breath. He looked up in time to watch her lids lift. She blinked blearily, not noticing him immediately. She tried to move and frowned, glaring down at her bandaged hand as if it had personally offended her. He felt her tug on their magic and the hand glowed gold, the cast unravelling as she healed it completely. She flexed it when the plaster was gone. He thought her pinky might be ever-so crooked, but otherwise it was as if the injury had never happened. He smiled and she finally lifted her eyes to look at him.

“Welcome back,” he said softly, putting his book on the floor so he could lean closer to her.

“How long-”

“A day and a half, give or take.”

She sighed, closing her eyes again. Her hand found Dragon and sank into her fur. “I feel rather foolish.”

And he’d thought he’d have to be the one to start the conversation. He reached out to take her hand, so she would know he was being honest with her. “You did save us all.”

Her eyes opened again and she turned her head to look at him fully. “And then I offered to rewrite reality so you could rule the universe.”

“As grand romantic gestures go, it was very thoughtful.”

That earned him a small smile. “I’m an excellent gift giver.”

He was quiet a moment. “Why did you put it on?” he asked her, voice soft. “I know it looked grim, but. . . It isn’t like you. Together we might have taken him down without it.”

Her throat worked as she swallowed. He watched her hand pet Dragon and let her think. Perhaps it would have been easier if she hadn’t remembered. He could have told her some sort of pretty half truth about her bravery and she wouldn’t have to live with how close she had come to the abyss.

“I’m not as strong as you,” she said finally, voice small. “Magically. I thought perhaps if you saw me as an equal -”

“Syn,” he said softly. “I don’t- That doesn’t matter to me. I wouldn’t care if you had no magic at all. How could you think that mattered to me so much?”

“It was the only reason I could think of for you not wanting to marry me.”

If she had risen from the bed to strike him he could not have been more surprised. “Syn-”

“I know,” she said, squeezing his hand. “I know we have the bond and you think it’s silly and we don’t need to obey the rules of propriety and every other excuse you’ve given me. But there’s something else, Loki. Don’t tell me there isn’t. You do like power. It tempts you. And I thought perhaps you were keeping your options open. For someone with a little more of it.”

He closed his eyes, unable to look at the hurt in hers any longer. This is what came of not talking to her. Of thinking he could fix things himself instead of asking for her help.

She was watching him, concern evident on her face, when he opened his eyes again. “It isn’t that,” he told her softly. “Not even a little.”

 “Then what is it?”

He shifted, sitting on the edge of her bed near her hip. He stroked his fingers up her arm to trace the little rune that marked her. “You had no choice in this. Not really. We were trapped on a barren rock half a galaxy away and there was no way to go home. While it’s good to know bonding with me was preferable to death. . . it wasn’t really a choice, was it?”

She struggled to sit up. “Loki-”

“I know your family wants you to marry. That it’s embarrassing for them to have you here, living with me the way we are. I know your mother writes you constantly. I assumed that, having already bonded with me, you had decided marriage was an expedient way to quiet her complaints. And I understand that, I do. I just. . . I wanted to feel as if you had truly chosen me. For both our sakes.” He paused, then added. “I didn’t want to be the man you settled for.”

That was met with silence. When it became oppressive he found the courage to look at her face. She’d managed to sit up a bit, braced against the pillows and the wall behind her. Her eyes were soft, but her mouth had twisted into something resembling exasperation.

She reached out and touched his cheek. “You’re an idiot,” she told him gently, as she had over a year ago when he had been on the verge of ruining his life.

It was not the reaction he had expected. “What?”

“My mother wants me to marry you because she hopes it will make my father forgive me.”

His brow furrowed. “Forgive you for what?”

She sighed, shoulders lifting, then slumping. “When you were missing I went - well I suppose I went a little mad. I locked myself in the library and refused to come out. I was desperate to find a way to bring you back. Eventually my parents came to try to convince me to give up. Or at least take a break and go home. They thought if I mourned properly for a while then I would realize it was futile and give up.” Her mouth thinned with anger and she looked away from his face a moment. “There’s a boy back home. Well, I shouldn’t call him boy, but I’ve known him since we were in diapers. He’s the son of an influential lord and he’d love to marry me. My father started with asking, then moved to begging and then ordering. I was supposed to be a dutiful daughter, come home, forget about you, and marry the man he’d chosen for me.”

After a pause she looked over at him and gave a wry smile. “An argument between two people who can’t lie is an ugly thing. You both say things that can’t be unsaid or unheard. He disowned me. Told me I wasn’t welcome home until I could obey him like I should. Then he took my mother’s arm and dragged her out. Frigga intervened on my behalf with Odin and I was allowed to stay here. Asylum, she called it. I haven’t seen my father since.”

Loki gaped at her a moment, his mouth opening and closing, though no sound came out at first. “But you - you went home and visited them. Over the summer. You told me-”

“I told you I was going to see my mother. I did. At a small cabin far from the Alfan capital. She told him she was visiting relatives. My mother, at least, can lie all she wants. My younger brother writes to me because he thinks it’s rebellious and that I’ve finally become interesting. He’s the one that sent me the chair and the decorations for the study. My mother was ecstatic when you came back and I told her of our relationship.” Syn gave an almost apologetic shrug. “Son of the Allfather beats son of a shipping tycoon, generally speaking. She’s hoping news of a betrothal will make Father see reason.” Her fingers tightened on his. “I gave up my family on the chance of seeing you again. I chose you a very long time ago, Loki.”

For a moment, it was if his life flashed before his eyes. Every time he had felt his parents favored Thor. All the days left alone, because he didn’t feel welcome among his friends. The quiet teases that had likely been meant kindly but felt like criticism. The soul searing betrayal when he found out his true lineage and the lie that was his entire existence. And now, here, finally, was someone who _chose_ him. Who loved him enough to put him above everyone else. He’d known, in a vague, theoretical way, that she had worked tirelessly to find a way to reach him when he was missing. He had not realized the scope of it until just then.  
 He leaned forward to rest his forehead on hers. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He was a little embarrassed at how rough his voice sounded, but there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Her fingers twined into his hair, stroking gently. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured into marrying me.” Her tone was wry, as if she had just realized how utterly ridiculous they had both been.

Loki chuckled soft. “It seems, my dear, that we’re both idiots.”

“A matched set of them,” she agreed.

“I suppose there’s only one thing to be done for it.” He leaned back and slipped his hands under her arms, helping her sit up fully. Her brow was furrowed in confusion, until he took a knee at the side of her bed and folded her hand between his. “Syn the Truthful, daughter of Hoenir the Honest, princess of Alfheim and second in line to the throne-”

“My, that’s a mouthful,” she murmured.

“Shush.” He cleared his throat. “Would you do me the great honor of becoming my wife? Share my days and nights. Learn with me, grow with me. Threaten to raise an army against me when I’ve gotten out of line.”

Her mouth twitched, like she was trying not to grin. “This is very sudden,” she said solemnly. “I may need time to think-”

“Dearest, this floor is hard and I’ve just been in a battle.”

Now she laughed and leaned forward to rest her forehead on his. “I would love to marry you, my darling prince.”

He wrapped his arm around her, tugging her off the bed and into his lap. Her arms went around his neck and he tipped her face up to kiss her.

*

Jane stood on a balcony near the top of the palace of Asgard watching the sky. It had been a very strange day. It had begun with a late breakfast with Thor and his mother - Odin had been off doing whatever it was the king of an entire realm did. They had been interrupted by Loki and Syn coming in to announce their engagement. Thor had been unabashedly ecstatic, both at the news and that Syn was awake and walking around. The queen had also seemed pleased, but Jane had sensed some sort of undercurrent there that she hadn’t entirely understood. Well, it was probably complicated when princes and princesses of different realms got married. Maybe someone could explain the politics of it to her later.

She’d stood to hug Syn when Thor started slapping Loki on the back. The other woman had felt oddly fragile in her arms, in a way she hadn’t only a few days ago when they’d met in the prison cell.

The events on Svartlheim were still a bit muddled to her. Jane remembered nothing of the removal of the Aether, her recollection started when she woke up on the ledge with Syn. She’d watched the battle from her vantage point, but it had been at a distance. Thor had explained some of what she’d seen. Syn taking control of the gauntlet, winning the battle in a few flicks of her hand, then Loki having to bring her back from the edge of madness. Apparently, that was unheard of when it came to the gauntlet, though Thor had admitted most of what they knew about the glove came from myth and legend. The gauntlet allowed the wearer to warp reality, so for all they knew a thousand people had worn the thing, rewritten existence and lost it again. The worlds they lived in could just be the most recent version.

Thinking like that made Jane feel vaguely nauseous, so she’d focused on congratulating the couple. The rest of breakfast had been pleasant enough, then a guard had arrived, demanding Syn come see Odin immediately. She had gone, Loki at her heels. The yelling had started soon after.

Over the next few hours, the sound of Odin lecturing Syn on the abuse of power, joining a battle she was ill equipped to be a part of and various other things he was mad about had echoed through the palace. He’d spent the last couple days yelling at just about everyone regarding what had happened during the battle. He sort of reminded Jane of a physics professor she’d had in grad school who had expressed just about every negative emotion through yelling. Anger and frustration, sure. But worry, fear, and grief as well. With that in mind, she suspected he was less angry and more dealing with the fear of how close he had come to losing his sons in battle just a day before.

Thor and Frigga went to go support Syn after a while, leaving Jane to her own devices. She’d ended up at the Bifrost gate, grilling Heimdall on the ins and outs of the bridge and what he knew about it. He had ended up telling her about the realm convergence and now here she was, in what he had told her would be the best seat in the house, waiting for a once in a lifetime astronomical event.

The stars were just starting to come out when she heard a quiet tread behind her. She half turned to see Syn coming to join her at the rail. The Alfan gestured at the sky. “I have loved the stars too fondly/to be fearful of the night.’ Come to watch the convergence?”

“Heimdall told me about it,” Jane confirmed. “You know Earth poetry?”

Syn leaned her arms on the rail next to Jane. “There’s more than just science and magic in the library. I like poetry. I would like to read more modern work from Midgard, though. Perhaps we could visit a book shop together and you could recommend something.” This with an almost cautious glance at Jane.

She found herself smiling. “I’d love that.” She looked back at the palace to make sure no one else was coming out. “Are you done being yelled at?”

The other woman laughed a little. “I think so. It didn’t have quite the impact he’d hoped, though. Frigga kept interrupting with questions about traditional Alfan wedding ceremonies. Thor was trying to plan Loki’s bachelor party in the corner. And even Odin paused a couple of times to chuckle about the look on my father’s face when he found out they were going to be in-laws. It was by far the strangest scolding I’ve ever had. But yes, I believe it’s done with now. I should probably contact my parents to let them know I’m engaged and see how hard my father will try to pretend he hasn’t been ignoring my existence for the last year and a half.” She smiled crookedly. “But for now, I want to watch the convergence with my new friend. How are you feeling?”

Jane tipped her head back, looking at the sky and the faint stars. “Good, I think? The same, mostly. I kind of expected super-sight or something. I don’t have Asgardian strength or stamina. Eir put me on the soul forge-”

“Quantum field generator,” Syn supplied with a grin.

“Exactly. She took a look at me and said that I didn’t look like an Asgardian but I certainly didn’t look like any Midgardian she’d ever seen. Though, now that I think of it, she didn’t actually say how many Midgardians she’d seen, so. . .”

Syn chuckled and looked down. “It’s been pointed out to me - quite loudly - that I might have done you a disservice by giving you our lifespan. It will mean watching your friends and family die. I may have acted rashly and I apologize.”

Jane touched her arm lightly. “No, no. I said I wanted it and I meant it. I mean, yeah, it’ll be hard to explain to people back home but. . . Think of what I can learn! The things that will be discovered in the next five thousand years. I’ll watch people die, but then I’ll watch the world change. Art, music, literature. I never thought I would have it but now that I do I don’t regret it.” She paused. “Unless there’s some weird thing where I live five thousand years but age normally so I’m like a walking skeleton by the end. That would be unfortunate.”

“No, no. I - the power obeyed my will and I specifically wanted you to be like us. To be able to grow old with Thor. So I would think you’ll age at the same rate as us.”  
 “That’s a relief.” She watched the sorceress a moment. “Do you remember it?” she asked finally, voice quiet. “Having the gauntlet on? Wielding the power?”

Syn stared out at the sea and the sky. “Some. I understood so much. How it all worked. How to change it. Make it better. I held the universe in my hand and could have made it spin however I liked it. It was. . . intoxicating. Consuming. It was all there, in my head, but it’s fading. It fades more every moment. I used the last of the power to change you and now the knowledge that was left is leaving. I tried to write it down but it reads like the rantings of a lunatic. I imagine it will be gone entirely soon.” Her mouth tightened, as did the skin around her eyes. “I worry a little, that it might haunt me. Answers that I once knew dancing just beyond my reach.” She shook her head sharply. “It’s better than the alternative, though. I remember the madness as well, its claws sinking into my mind. I’d have been lost to it if Loki hadn’t called me back.”

“He loves you very much.” It was a stupid, obvious thing to say, but it was the only thing Jane could think of at the moment.

It made Syn smile, though, shaking off some of the dark thoughts. “Yes, he does.”

“He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who likes a lot of people.”

“Oh, Loki is a bit like my cat. Pretends I’m the only person he loves until something makes him admit that no, he does in fact care about others. I’m working on it.” She looked at Jane. “Thor loves you. You make him happy. Thor means a great deal to Loki, whether he likes it or not. So ignore anything he says to you that’s negative or dismissive. He’d kill to keep you safe, if for no other reason than to spare Thor pain.”

She hadn’t looked at it that way. “I will keep that in mind.” She glanced out at the view again and jumped a little. “Oh! It’s starting.” They lapsed into silence, watching the realms appear in the sky, slowly moving into a line. “Which one is yours?”

Syn squinted, then leaned over to point. “The blue one, right there. That’s Alfheim.”

Jane studied the distant realm a moment. “I’d like to visit it someday.”

 “Of course. Our library is less impressive but our gardens are without peer.”

This was her life now. Traveling to different realms. Soul forges and quantum field generators. A friend who could heal with her hands and do real, honest-to-God magic. A boyfriend who went to war against monsters. And a library with more books than she could ever read. It was like a fairy tale.

Thor’s voice boomed from behind them. “You see, brother? I told you they’d be out here.”

“Indeed.” Loki’s voice was quieter and drier. “And I told you we were going to miss the convergence.”

“There’s plenty left to be seen,” Thor assured him, joining Jane at the rail and tucking her into his side.

Loki stepped behind Syn and wrapped his arms around her waist, tugging her back against his chest. “Thor is trying to convince me to go out and celebrate our engagement by doing a test run of a bachelor party.”

Syn looked over at Thor. “If you do that, I will take Jane to go watch the soldiers grapple.”

“You’re a shrewd negotiator, soon-to-be-sister.” Jane could feel the laugh rumbling in his chest.

“You have no idea,” Loki muttered, resting his chin on Syn’s hair.

“All of you shush,” Jane said. “Science is happening.” Syn grinned at her, Loki snorted, and Thor barked a laugh and tugged her tighter into his side. Together they stood and watched the worlds align.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of part 4. And a good place, I think, to take a bit of a hiatus on this fic. There will almost certainly be a part 5 at some point, but I need to take a break, prevent burn out, and work on some other projects.
> 
> But fear not! You will not be without a Syn and Loki. I've started _yet another_ AU for them. (I know I have a problem, that doesn't mean I'm going to stop.) It will post Sundays, starting this Sunday the 14th. It's titled _Masquerade_ and I included a brief synopsis below. Thank you for reading and all your comments. This wouldn't be nearly as much fun without all of you.
> 
> _Masquerade:_  
>  It begins much like _Where My Demons Hide_ with Loki on the throne pretending to be Odin. At the winter summit of realm leaders he meets the queen of Alfheim, Syn the Truthful. When she sees right through his glamour she offers him an alliance rather than reveal him. This is a darker, more cunning Syn than we've met before. Rather than being Loki's conscience she becomes a most interesting ally indeed.


End file.
